Spiraling
by maraudings
Summary: "people can surprise you. you get used to thinking of them one way- stuck in their roles, they are what they are. and then they do something that shows you there's all this depth and dimension that you never knew existed." formerly 'till kingdom come'
1. one

****author: ****al-tothe-ex**  
><strong>rating: <strong>**t**  
><strong>disclaimer: <strong>**belongs to lisi harrison. not me. i know- shocker, right xD also, this chapter title is from band of skulls song titled, "i know what i am"**  
><strong>an: ****so this is the story i'm replacing come out of the shade with. it was inspired by grey sky morning, a one shot i wrote a while back, and i'm hoping i can keep up with it because so far i like the story i've come up with. so, enjoy, and tell me what you think.

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><p><em>-spiraling-<em>

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><p>-<br>chapter i: "i know what i am, they know what they are"  
>-<p>

"Derrick Harrington! Stop fooling around and get back to the net!"

Turning towards his purple-faced coach, a playful grin sprouted on the young boy's face. "Yes sir!"

"If you were anybody else, he'd for sure kick you off the team," Cam Fisher remarked.

"If I was anybody else, I think I'd have to kick myself off the team. It would be embarrassing to suck that bad," Derrick Harrington adjusted the straps of his gloves, throwing his friend a smirk.

"Oh please, like it's so hard catching balls that fly at your face," His best friend scoffed. "It actually takes skill to be a forward. We're on the other side of the field actually doing the winning."

"That may be so, but there's a reason why I'm the star of the team- I constantly save all the mistakes you seem to make every three minutes," The blonder of the two teased.

"Harrington! Field, now!" Coach Mackley gave a short, shrill toot of his whistle.

"Coming!" He turned to Cam. "Jesus, I guess the wife didn't put out last night, huh?"

Cam shook his head, an amused smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he watched his friend jog off towards the other side of the pitch. "You're really something, you know that?"

Derrick turned around, arms raised and smirk wide. "So I've been told!"

**[ ]**

"You know who's looking fine today?" Leaning back in the stadium seat, the raven-haired girl ran a manicured hand through her locks. Her eyes were set hungrily on the field below then. "Kemp Hurley. Damn."

Beside her, her companion leaned forward, trying to see the same thing her friend was seeing. "Seriously? Because I could have sworn you were just saying how immature he was last week."

Dark sculpted brows crinkled. "Did I? Well, fortunately for us, immaturity doesn't affect a guys ability to-"

"Okay, stop there. I get where you're going with that."

"Oh please, Dylan. Don't pretend like you're the innocent one. Like you and Derrick haven't _done_ anything."

Dylan Marvil felt her cheeks flush but said nothing on the subject. "I'm sorry you have a hard time believing that not all of us are as 'friendly' as you, Alicia."

Giving a shrug of her shoulders, Alicia Rivera pulled out her phone. "Either way, I'm going to drop Kemp an invitation for a study date after school. In my hot tub."

Dylan rolled her emerald eyes and watched the boy's practice unfold before them. She found her eyes wandering over to the goalie, and observing how he bounced lightly from foot to foot with the smallest hint of a smile. It was sometimes surprising even to her that her boyfriend was Derrick Harrington, especially how he had the honor of upholding the title of school womanizer. But for some reason, Dylan had been the first to keep him in a relationship that lasted more than one weekend. So far, they were at two months, and she harbored the hope that it would last longer.

"Hello?" Alicia called, waving a hand in front of Dylan's face. "Can you stop undressing him with your eyes for a second? I'm trying to have a conversation with you."

"Sorry, go on." Dylan took a sip from her tumbler, and the remains of her Starbucks slipped out the opening.

"Anyway, so I was with Skye yesterday coming up with the new cheer routine, and we were talking about Danny Robbins recent fling with that girl from Abner Double Day. I mean, I can totally tell that it's not going to last until the end of next week because everyone knows Danny's still into Kristen-"

"Still?" Dylan scoffed. "I thought everyone knew she cheated on him with Kyle Thatch. Wasn't that how she caught that STD?"

"Yes, but that's not my point. Anyway, she freaking snapped at me and said something like, 'why can't you just give him a chance' and 'he's a good guy, blah blah blah'. And I'm sitting there like, 'uh, why do you care so much about him', you know?"

Dylan shrugged, her red hair falling off her shoulders. "Maybe she's into him."

"Probably, I mean you know how she likes- Oh, here she is" Alicia put on a smile and waved to the approaching girl. "Hey Skye! How funny, we were just talking about you!"

"Good things, I hope?" Skye Hamilton smiled brightly as she climbed the last of the stairs and came to a stop right next to them. Her blonde hair was tied back into a messy, curled ponytail, looking effortlessly stunning.

"As always," Dylan mused, a bright smile upon her face.

**[ ]**

The boy's locker room was filled with its usual noises- shouts of the teenage boys and the showers spraying high pressured water onto the tiled floor. Derrick stepped up to his locker, his leg muscles pulsing with the ever-welcome post practice fatigue. It had been another worthwhile two hours. He hoped that with all of the extra effort he and the team were putting in to improving they might actually have a chance at taking state this year, which had been a dream of his since freshmen year.

"Nice," Kemp Hurley hissed from a row over. His face poked around the row of lockers, face bright from practice. "Guess who just texted me?"

"Blake Lively," Cam deadpanned.

"Better," Kemp grinned slyly. "Alicia Rivera."

A wave of reaction swept over the team, one mixed with groans of irritation and hisses of approval. "Uh, if you say so," Cam opened his locker, pulling his jersey over his damp hair. "Though considering how she's tried to get with nearly every senior in this school and half of the juniors, it was only a matter of time before her sights narrowed down to you."

"Harrington!" Coach Mackley's voice cut though the locker room atmosphere like a knife. "My office!"

"Not now, old man," He mumbled under his breath, slipping his necklace over his head and on the locker shelf. The small blue stone dangling off the end hit the aluminum surface with a light _clack_.

Having heard his grumbling, Josh Hotz laughed from next to him. "Just get it over with, dude. He'd probably just bitching about how you took control of practice again for that last half hour."

Derrick grinned. "You're probably right. I don't know why his panties are in a twist over that, anyway. I can coach us a hell of a lot better than he can."

He crossed to the other side of the locker room, slapping the backs of a few teammates on the way. And when he got to Mackley's office, he abandoned the concept of knocking and let himself in. "You wanted to see me?"

To say that Coach Mackley looked annoyed would be an understatement. "Sit down," He snapped.

Derrick remained standing, instead crossing his arms over his toned chest. "Can you just tell me what this is about? I have somewhere to be."

Coach Mackley's stance got more ridged, but he didn't chastise his unruly player. Instead, he spoke with slowly and with precision. "Being that team captain means more than just being the most popular on the team. Though it was a team vote, I was still the one to approve it. And lately, it seems you have been showing the opposite of what this school looks for in its leaders."

"Oh," Derrick rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me your revoking my captain title? Because I'm sure even you have noticed that no one else here on the team has the drive and influence to get us nationally ranked."

There was a small spark of amusement in the elder man's beady eyes. "No, I'm not revoking your title. I am, however, temporarily suspending you from the team."

"What?" Exclaimed Derrick. "On what grounds?"

"Oh, just a little thing they call a grade point average," Mackley tossed a sheet of paper on the end of his desk for Derrick to see. "You are aware that a student must have an average of 2.8 to participate in sports or other activities, right?"

Derrick said nothing, too immersed in the paper he was looking at. Two Fs? In Math and Chemistry? Well both of those were classes he didn't give two shits about, so excuse him for not trying… But Ds in everything else? There was no way. He was positive he should have at least a C in Home Ec. How the hell does one fail that class?

Without looking at his coach or making any verbal response, Derrick left the small office, the door shaking in it's frame with the force of his slam.

**[ ]**

Dylan waited with Alicia and Skye outside the locker rooms. It was nearing six o'clock, and dusk was quickly settling over the suburb of Westchester, New York. She noticed how the sky was currently cloudless, and a part of her looked forward to the possibility of seeing stars tonight. The sound of a door hitting the concrete wall behind it snapped her attention back to the present.

"Damn," She heard Alicia curse at the sight of the players. Dylan resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but even she couldn't say she didn't enjoy seeing a bunch of hot boys rolling out of a locker room after a hard practice. Especially one boy in particular.

"Hey," She bounded forward at the sight of Derrick, no doubt grinning like an idiot. "I watched from the stands- great practice."

He sighed, wrapping his arms around her waist. "If you say so."

Dylan could sense that something was off with him. There was something missing in his eyes; they seemed duller. "What's wrong?"

"Hey, tough break Harrington," A passing team mate calls. Derrick looked to acknowledge him, but Dylan's gaze stays focused on him.

And when he looked back down at her, his smile is unconvincing. "It's nothing, promise. You want to go get some fries or something?"

She could tell he was lying, but didn't press it. A boy like Derrick didn't like to be smothered. "Actually I have to get home for dinner. I told my mom I'd be there."

Derrick gave a playful pout, momentarily snapping out of his haze. "I see how it is. Well, at least let me drive you home then." He turns her around and leads her towards his car, arm draped over her shoulder.

For a brief moment, Dylan felt that the image she had built up about their relationship was not exactly one that he shared.

**[ ]**

On Monday mornings after homeroom, the hallways of Briarwood High School were filled with students rushing from class to class. Being the first day of the week, some of them were trying to catch up on the weekend homework that they procrastinated on before their classes started. Others were trying to get back to their cars and take a quick coffee run, because that caffeine would be the only thing that would keep them going through sixth period.

Derrick, on the other hand, walked as slowly as he could stand. Since he got suspended from the team on Friday afternoon, the only thing he could think about was getting back on. But as much as he tried to find one, there simply wasn't a quick fix to this problem.

"Hey man," Cam greeted, coming up behind him. "Back on the team yet?"

"No," Derrick scoffed. "And I don't know why the hell Coach keeps targeting me. I bet this is a ploy to get me off the team for good. You know as well as I do how badly he wants that."

"Actually, he's bound by his contract with the school that he has to honor their rules against player eligibility." Always the sensible one, Cam laid out his logic like cards in a poker game. "So believe it or not, your grades actually do suck and are keeping you from playing."

"Yeah, well," Derrick grumbled. "I don't see anyway I could get back on within the next week."

"I'm surprised your dad hasn't called down to the office and complained. You know, pulling his 'school contributor' crap like he does for everything?" Cam looked at Derrick expectedly. But after he got no response, the realization fell across his face. "He doesn't know yet, does he?"

"Are you kidding me?" Looking at his friend incredulously, Derrick shook his head. "He'd go ape shit it he found out I'm off the team, and not just on the school but on me, too. It's better for his blood pressure if he just doesn't find out. I'll be back on eventually, anyways."

Cam nodded, pretending to understand his friend's family situation. "Have you considered getting a tutor?" At Derrick's confused look, he went on to elaborate. "You know, getting help from someone at this school? They're free, and your dad won't even know because you don't have to go into some office somewhere."

"Dude, I don't want to sit around all day with some nerd while he lectures me on the importance of _Dungeons & Dragons_."

"Oh please, like it's actually like that."

"Either way, no thanks," Derrick gave a head nod to a passing friend. "I'd rather not go through the humiliation of spending hours with some friendless loser."

Cam exhaled. "Well, then I guess you'll be pretty pissed when you find out I signed you up anyway, right?"

Stopping in the middle of the hallway, Derrick turned to face Cam fully. "Are you shitting me?"

"I'm just trying to help you out, man," Cam reasoned, his hands up in the air in defense. "You always say how soccer is the most important thing in your life. So if you do this, and you can get it back again. There's nothing to lose from this."

Derrick stood there, staring his friend down in disbelief. "Cam, What the-" He stopped the stream of insanities from coming out of his mouth. Instead he gave one last scathing look Cam Fisher before turning and storming down the hall, knocking various freshmen out of the way in the process.

"Student center at lunch!" Cam called after him. "They will meet you there!"

**[ ]**

Leave it up to stupid Cam to sign him up for something without his permission. If it was one thing Derrick despised about his best friend, it was his constant assumption that he knew what was best for everyone, Derrick included. But at some level, he knew Cam was right. He wouldn't even be in the student center right now if he didn't think so. And if tutoring got him back on the team, then he supposed he didn't have anything to loose after all.

The Briarwood student center was a small, closed off area next the library. It was filled with tables and comfortable armchairs, and was a popular meeting place for clubs. Fortunately for Derrick, today the place was nearly empty. Only three of the tables were filled, one of them with a few members of the freshmen football team.

Derrick checked the slip that was delivered to him during 4th period. The name of his tutor was scrawled in the blank space of the generic tutoring notice, and unsurprisingly to him, it was one he's never heard of before in his life.

Looking back up at his options, he came to the conclusion that she had to be the one sitting at the table closest to the large window.

"Massie Block?" Derrick asked. The girl sitting at the table looked up from her paper, her dark eyes squinting in the light change.

"Yeah?"

"I think you're my tutor. Derrick Harrington," He held out his hand for her to shake, but it was belatedly ignored.

"Well, then have a seat," This girl scooted her pile of books over to give him some room to sit. "Looking over your grades I can see we have a lot of work to do."

"I guess so," Derrick swung his backpack around to his front slowly, all the while studying his tutor. She was attractive, he supposed, with dark hair and fair skin. But what really threw him off was her lack of makeup. Most girls at Briarwood caked on a bit of everything they had, but this Massie Block was fairly fresh faced. And her attire- jeans, boots, a purple top and a corduroy jacket. The only skin exposed was her neck, face and hands. It was too… _modest_ then what he was used to seeing.

He was so busy studying her it took him a little bit to realize she had been talking to him. Now she turned to him expectedly, with her kept brows raised. "Uh," He said, not really sure what to respond with. "What?"

She gave off an impatient sigh, and inwardly Derrick winced. _Great_. He's already pissed off his tutor. "Okay, listen up; believe it or not, I do actually have better things to do than tutor you. I don't have the patience to sit here and spend hours helping someone who obviously couldn't care less-"

"Wait, whoa," Derrick cut her off. "Who said I didn't care?"

"Are you not Derrick Harrington, soccer stare extraordinaire with the infamous 'devil may care; attitude and an habit of sleeping around?" Her face was stern, and for some reason he felt the string of her words.

"Look," Derrick leaned forward, giving his lips a slight lick. "Honestly, I don't care what you've heard about me. I need your help, and I'm more than willing to put the full amount of effort into this. In case you haven't already figured out, soccer is kind of the only thing I have going for me right now, and I need to keep on playing. So are you going to stop being a bitch and help me or not?"

She didn't look offended like he had expected when the name slipped from his lips. Instead, she leaned forward. "For that, absolutely not. I'm sure you can find someone else to help you out." She gathered up her things in one armful and hoisted her bag on her shoulder, all the while managing to stare him down. "I mean, that shouldn't be a problem for you- you're Derrick Harrington, right?"

And Massie Block stalked out the student center without looking back.

And Derrick Harrington started after her, surprised to find himself partially impressed.


	2. two

**i though i'd let you know that this story is going to mostly be told in a limited third person point of view, mostly revolving around derrick. ocassionaly it'll be dylan or cam or whoever, if the story really needs it. **

**thank you to angela****, sydney (GUUURLL WHERE YOU BEEN? and i miss you too! :D), mo, ****FaithInMe, gallaghergrl, and sophie for reviewing.**

**official chapter title from **_innocent _**by **aidan hawking

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><p><em>—<em>

_chapter ii: "fall is on it's way, no more sunny days"_

_—_

"So, what do you know about Massie Block?" Derrick asked, tossing the soccer ball back to Cam.

It was a typical Monday afternoon in October. The sun was hung low in the sky, and a sharp breeze was the last reminder that summer was nearly over. And of course Derrick and Cam were quick to take full advantage of it. Though Cam had the day off from practicing, Derrick dragged him back down to the stadium- even though he was off the team he still needed the practice. And, though he wouldn't admit it, he didn't want to explain to his dad why he wasn't practicing.

"Massie Block?" Cam repeated, he trapped the ball under his foot, and thought for a moment. "Huh... I think we went to elementary school with her. She was really quiet though."

"Know anything about her now?" Raising a hand to shield his eyes from the setting sun, Derrick waited patiently for an answer.

"I don't know. Like I said, she's quiet. Why do you ask?" Cam stepped back from the ball and prepared to shoot.

"I met her earlier today. She was my tutor." Derrick said, before diving to the left and catching Cam's attempted goal.

"Wait," The other boy stopped, his hands at his waist. "What do you mean, _was_?"

"She completely freaked at me and just stormed off. I'm going to go ahead and take that as a resignation from the task."

Even from the distance of ten yards, Derrick could see the skeptical look that was sent this way. "You sure you didn't say anything to piss her off?"

Derrick shot his friend a look. "No, Cam. I was completely straight forward with her, as I always am with anyone."

"Yeah, see, there's your problem."

"What are talking about?"

"When you're forward, you can kind of be, well," Cam paused briefly. "an ass."

Snorting, Derrick tossed the ball back. "Oh please. Stop being such a girl."

"I'm just saying," Cam shrugged. "But I can find out more about her if you want me to."

**[ ]**

Derrick killed the engine of his BMW, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. Dread filled his body as he stared at the bumper to the shiny, silver Lexus in front of him. He had hoped to avoid any confrontation with his father by getting home before he did and locking himself in his room, but it appeared that Nathaniel Harrington was home earlier than usual today- no doubt waiting for the return of his hard working, soccer playing son. Unbeknowst to him, neither one of those descriptions currently applied to Derrick.

Opening the heavy oak front door, Derrick held his breath. Hopefully his father was in his office at the back of the house far to submersed in important business to pay any mind to Derrick's return. But just incase he was careful to cross the threshold and entrance foyer on his toes.

He managed to make it to the stairwell with no problems, and was immediately thankful for his stepmother's extended business trip this week. On any other day the new Mrs. Harrington would be sat in the living room, her portfolio open on the coffee table. The woman had ears that could pick up a mouse and had an unwelcome act of getting into Derrick's business. He could tell it was an attempt to get to know him better, but it just ended up annoying the seventeen-year-old.

It wasn't until he got to the landing that he heard his father's voice. He paused, the dread bubbling, before he realized his dad was talking on the phone.

"… Yes Mr. Wilson, Derrick doing great in school…. His soccer season starts up fairly soon, actually. If you need tickets, just let me know. I'm sure I can get some for you and the Mrs…" His father let out a hearty laugh. "Yes, yes I'm sure it'll be well worth the drive. Derrick's quite the star at his school."

Giving his head a shake, Derrick climbed the rest of the stairs.

**[ ]**

The next day, lunchtime rolled around with less vigor and enthusiasm than Derrick normally greeted it with. He played with the food in front of him in a dejected manner, only half listening to Kemp's retelling of his encounter with Alicia to the good portion of the soccer team that surrounded their table.

"I still think you should get yourself checked out," Josh said skeptically, once he had concluded his tale. "There's no way she's not a melting pot for diseases."

"Oh please," Kemp scoffed. "You know, I don't recall her ever coming up to you and offering you a good time. You're probably just jealous."

"No Kemp, because I have some things called _standards_."

From Derrick's left, Cam slid up to the table. "Hey Derrick, I found out some more stuff on your tutor."

Derrick tossed his fork back into his pasta. "Dude," He checked around the table to make sure no one heard Cam. But most were still wrapped in the Alicia/STD debate. "Let's keep the whole tutoring thing on the down low for a while, 'mmkay?"

Cam's dark brows crinkled. "Why? They already know you're failing."

"Just-" Derrick huffed. "Forget it. What did you find out?"

"She's smart, man, way smart. Like, a cumulative GPA of 4.0 smart. And she's quiet- most people I asked didn't even know who she was. But the ones who did said she is the best tutor in the school. So, you might have just pissed off your best chance back on the team."

"Great," Running a hand through his dirty blonde hair, Derrick exhaled. "I'm fucked."

"I'd say your best bet is to get another tutor and see where they can get you. And do it fast," Cam straightened up and helped himself to Josh's French fries. "I hate to admit it, but we need your cocky ass back on the team."

"I'm sure I can agree with that," Derrick said, rising to his feet. "It's been a pleasure, gentlemen, and very stimulating conversation, but-"

Danny Robbins, a defensive midfielder, burst out into laughter. "Stimulating like how Kemp was feeling last Friday?"

"Dan, at least I get some," Kemp fired back.

"Yeah, well, as I was saying," Derrick continued, gathering up his food. "As much as I've enjoyed your company this past twenty minutes, I regret to inform you that other business calls me away."

"Just get out of here, you douche," Josh deadpanned without looking up, causing the whole table to ripple with snickers.

**[ ]**

It was a simple task, really, signing your name down on a tutor request form. But holding the pen aloft in his hand, Derrick seemed to suddenly acquire carpal tunnel. Signing his name here for the whole school to see would admit that he needed help, and he's always had trouble with admitting he couldn't do anything on his own.

He glanced around the student center. If no one who mattered was around, maybe he could deny that he even put his name down. Say it was some kind of joke, and pin the blame on someone else. Satisfied with that safety net, Derrick quickly scrawled his name on the list in the smallest possible handwriting he could manage.

_Now to get the hell out of here…_ Derrick turned to head for the door, but his eyes trailed over to the table in the corner next to the large window. There were two people sitting there; a girl with dark hair that hung just past her shoulders and a younger-looking boy in a red and white stripped polo.

He couldn't help it. He stood and watched them for a moment- though his eyes strayed towards the girl more frequently. There was something just so mesmerizing about the way her gaze darted back and forth between the paper and her student, her mouth blossoming in a smile as she watched him figure out the problem. And once he solved it correctly she gripped of his forearm in congratulations, her smile now opening to voice it as well. The boy grinned bashfully, continuing on to the next problem.

But then Massie Block's gaze fluttered upwards, and her eyes locked onto his. Her expression was unreadable, but he found himself ducking his head and heading for the door with more purpose than before.

He didn't need her help, anyway.

**[ ]**

The next day at lunch, Derrick sat across from his new tutor.

His name was Peter Walsh (or Welch, or Waugh. Derrick didn't remember), and he was perhaps the nerdiest kid to ever be in a ten foot diameter of the soccer jock. Everything about him reeked of friendless virgin, from the thick rimmed glasses to the high water pants. Currently he was going on about what to do when faced with a right triangle with missing sides, but Derrick's attention was on a blonde at the vending machine.

"Did you hear that Derrick?" Peter asked. His compainon peeled his eyes away from the girl bending to retrieve her coke, and glanced down at the notes Peter had just written with little interest.

"Uh, yeah," Derrick said. "Gottcha."

"Oh really?" Peter wasn't convinced. "So then what did I just say?"

Sighing irritably, Derrick rubbed his face. This was torture. "You just went on about how much of your time you spend sitting on your computer playing _World of Warcraft_ by yourself, while also going into distinct detail about how much money you spend on the Pro Active system."

Peter sucked in a harsh breath, his voice cracking when he went off on another rant about somethings called a cosine and tangent. But Derrick tuned it out again. This new tutor if his was not working for him. He had nothing to really keep Derrick's attention focused on the work. Listening to him talk was actually starting to get physically painful, and fifteen minutes before lunch (and their session) was over, he rose to his feet. "Well Paul, it was nice meeting you, but I don't think this is working out. I'll just leave you to your D&D manual."

"It's _Peter_."

**[ ]**

**CAM FISHER: so how'd the new tutor work out?  
><strong>**DERRICK HARRINGTON: he smelled like he showers once a week and nearly bored me to death.  
><strong>**CAM FISHER: looks like you're on your own then.  
><strong>**DERRICK HARRINGTON: are you serious? obviously if i didn't know it the first time i'm not going to know it now.  
><strong>**DERRICK HARRINGTON: so this massie girl is really the best tutor in school?  
><strong>**CAM FISHER: according to my sources, yes. why?  
><strong>**DERRICK HARRINGTON: i'm going to get her to tutor me.  
><strong>**CAM FISHER: i think she already expressed her opinion on that subject. and it's not like you can force her.  
><strong>**DERRICK HARRINGTON: can't i?  
><strong>**CAM FISHER: … no, you can't.  
><strong>**DERRICK HARRINGTON: i can't like, bribe her, or something?  
><strong>**CAM FISHER: uh, i don't think she'd go for it. how about you **_**apologize**_** for once in your life, huh? see how far that gets you?  
><strong>**DERRICK HARRINGTON: gross.  
><strong>**CAM FISHER: it's your grades man.**

**[ ]**

Derrick found her Thursday afternoon standing at the ASB window. And it had taken a while, as he had spent his entire break storming through the school examining every brunette he saw in search of her. Now here she was; standing with an unfamiliar blonde girl while talking with the cashier. Fantastic.

Swallowing the nervous lump that just appeared in his throat along with his pride, Derrick stepped up to her. "Hey," He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Massie Block turned, and raised a brow at the sight of him. "Can I help you?" From her left her friend eyed him warily, occasionally snapping the piece of gum in her mouth.

"Actually I wanted to apologize for Monday," He said, keeping up their eye contact. Her irises were an interesting shade, he realized. Was that called amber? "I acted like a jerk and shouldn't have called you a bitch, especially when all you were trying to do is help me when you really didn't have to."

She studied him for a moment, seemingly trying to figure out his level of sincerity. "It's alright," She said after a moment. "Apology accepted."

"Good," Derrick shifted his weight and leaned closer, suddenly becoming self-conscious of who overheard their conversation. "Because I really do need your help. I tried another tutor, but it just didn't work out. Besides I've heard you're the best in this school, and I'd really appreciate it. Can you give me a second chance?"

Her lips pursed, and for a second Derrick thought she was going to reject him flat out. But then after a moment or two, she exhaled a sigh. "Fine, I'll tutor you. But you have to take it seriously, or I'm out."

"Sounds fair," Derrick grinned softly feeling like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"Here's your receipt," The lanky student running the cashier slipped a piece of paper through the window.

"Thanks," Massie said. She turned back to Derrick. "Student center, tomorrow at lunch. We'll work out any other times then."

"Yeah, yeah okay," Derrick said, watching as her and her friend brushed past him. As they walked down the hall, he caught her friend glancing back at him over her shoulder.

"Um, are you going to purchase anything?"

Holding his tongue, Derrick walked away from the window and back toward the cafeteria. Not even some dorky student council member could ruin his mood.


	3. three

four months later...

as always i am sorry about how long it's taken me to update this. i tried to write some during the summer, but i quickly figured out that i pull inspiration from my school and my peers. not that these are fictitious versions of them, because they aren't. anyway, and this weekend my teachers were nice enough to only gives me two projects/homework assignments instead of the usual one-per-class thing i was getting used to.

also, title change. 'till kingdom come - spiraling. i think it fits better than the first, and i never really liked it.

**THANK YOU:** mo, krissy0405, sophie (to whom i'd also like to discuss the latest developments in the doctor who and merlin worlds), ariana, and angela.

chapter title from little dragon's _shuffle a dream__. _also, the song derrick is listening to in his car are from macklemore's _otherside_

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><p>-<br>_chapter iii: "would you share? 'cause that's the deal, girl"  
>- <em>

Fall had arrived, and the overcast skies and light drizzle were quick to tag along. For most of the students at Briarwood High School this evoked groans and a stronger impulse to ditch class to enjoy what was left of the sun. Derrick had all intentions of joining them, except there was that one small thing they call his grade point average. As much as it killed him to sit in Chemistry knowing that his friends were all having fun, it killed him even more to ride the bench during scrimmages.

His tutoring with Massie was one of the most stressful situations he's ever had the misfortune of being in. She expected much more from him than he was willing to give. She drilled him with flashcards and notes, one time even pulling out a planner and colored highlighters with intentions to get him more organized. And in most cases, Derrick would have been out the door in seconds. But this was already his second chance with her, and although he was running the risk of premature balding he needed to get back on the team.

The only stress-free aspect of his life was his relationship with Dylan. Derrick was not exactly the best boyfriend material, not even back in the seventh grade, but with Dylan things were easy. She was hot, she sometimes said funny things, and she completely doted on him. Sometimes he'd catch her staring at him for no reason whatsoever. They would be sitting in his room or his living room and he would feel her eyes on him. She'd always blush and look away, but it was in these moments that he wondered exactly how much Dylan invested in this relationship.

"Wait," Derrick said to Massie. His tutor had dragged him into another lunchtime meeting in the student center, resulting in less of the free time he normally got to enjoy. "So mercantilism is just the theory of a country exporting more than they import?"

Massie looked up from her work briefly. "Yep."

"Oh. Somehow, it made more sense when you explained it versus Mr. Galloway."

A small smile bloom on her face at the comment- the first in his presence, he realized. Somehow, at the thought of him being the cause of it, he noticed he sat a little taller. She leaned over her own history textbook and looked at his work. "So, the next part of the question is 'How did the American colonies help England to keep up with the goal of mercantilism'?"

Derrick thought for a moment, thinking back at yesterday's tutoring and history class. "Um, didn't they supply England with raw materials so that they wouldn't have to be bought from other countries?" She looked at him expectedly, urging him to continue. "And since they weren't spending more money on materials, it made England earn a higher profit from the exports?"

"Yeah, exactly," Massie praised. "See, after you get a good understanding of the theories that are relevant to the time period, the other answer will just fall into place. It's just applying it and using common sense."

"Oh," It was strange, because somehow it all seemed so clear and obvious he felt embarrassed that he needed her help to begin with. He grinned at her beaming face, a little taken aback by the amount of recognition he was getting. "Well, thank you for helping me out."

She nodded at him, fixing her gaze back down at the stack of papers she had collected in her binder. "It's no problem. And I think that's all of your history homework. We could do Chemistry next? Or Math?"

As he exhaled, the good feeling disappeared. Of course, the two subjects he hated the most. He quickly reverted to his automatic setting when it came to those- stall. "Do we have enough time to even get anything worthwhile done?" Looking at the clock at the wall above, Derrick put a concerned expression on his face.

Massie checked her watch face on the inside of her wrist. Derrick watched as her mouth pulled slightly off to one side. "No, I guess you're right. Let's just wait until tomorrow to start with those."

Exhaling in relief, Derrick closed his history book. "So I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yeah, tomorrow it is."

He rose to his feet with all the intentions of leaving, but the arrival of another caught his interest. She was average height with average shoulder length blonde hair, but Derrick got the feeling she was one of those 'free spirits'- the type of person who would rather protest animal rights or whatever than go to a football game. "Hey," She said, giving Massie a friendly tap on the shoulder.

"Oh hey," Massie turned to look at the girl. "I thought you were going to meet me by the library."

"Yeah, well you were taking forever," Her bright cerulean eyes flickered up towards him.

"Oh, right," Massie rose to her feet. "Derrick, this is Claire Lyons. Claire, this is-

"No, I know," Claire said, hardly giving him any more of her attention. She turned back towards Massie. "So, want to come with me to my math room? Ms. Olsen decided to mark me down on this project that definitely deserved full points."

"Yeah," Scooping up her books, Derrick watched as Massie put them in her bag. "So I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Uh, yeah," Derrick smiled awkwardly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Watching her leave with Claire, Derrick realized that he has never felt nearly as awkward as he did right at that moment. And for the life of him, he didn't even know why.

**[ ]**

Dylan sighed in contentment, watching the crowds of students pass to and fro around here. She didn't understand why most people hated high school. She adored it, and hated to think of it ever ending. There was nothing better than being young and virtually careless of the real world, and seeing your friends every day was just icing on the cake.

"Hey Dyl Pickle," Alicia cooed, coming up from behind and bumping into her shoulder slightly.

Dylan rolled her eyes. Ever since her mother had used that loathed term of endearment in Alicia's presence last year, her friend took pleasure in bringing it up every now and then just to see it's effect on her. "I think I've told you not to call me that."

"But why not? It's adorable," Winking at a member of the football team as they passed, it was apparent that she was probably only half listening to the conversation. But that was typical for hanging out with Alicia Rivera in the presence of the male species.

The redhead watched her in amusement. "Don't you ever get tired of it? I mean, you have the same routine with boys; you flirt, you love them, and then you leave them. Rinse and repeat."

Alicia shrugged. "Not really. I like it this way. I get to have my fun and they get to have me, for a night. Or two, depending on how skilled they are."

"Okay, not interested in the rest," Dylan held up her hand.

A scoff emitted from her friend's mouth. "You know for a non virgin, you are very prudish."

"I'm not a prude," Dylan defended. "I just think that the things you do behind closed doors should stay behind closed doors."

Alicia's mumbled a phrase that sounded a lot like, "Well sometimes the door isn't closed". Dylan chose to ignore it.

The pair entered their debate room together, finding two seats in the back. Thankfully their teacher was a firm believer in an open seating chart, so everyday Dylan had the privilege of surrounding herself with friends. Today was no different, and they managed to score the two best seats in the far corner of the classroom.

"You know, I wonder how Derrick copes with your 'closed door' policy," Alicia said with a grin.

"He hasn't complained," Dylan said simply.

Adjusting her shirt, Alicia raised an eyebrow. "No offence, but that kind of surprises me. You know what he was like last year."

"Oh please, he's changed."

Two sophomore girls that normally shadowed Alicia and Dylan's seating choice entered the room. Thought she normally didn't pay attention to underclassmen, Dylan was intrigued by their rapid discussion. She expected the pair to sit next to them as they always did, but instead they chose two seats on the other side of the room near the pencil sharpener. Alicia seemed to pick up on it too, though her reaction was completely different.

"I guess Bert and Ernie decided to move back to Sesame Street," She quipped. Dylan gave her a chastising look just as Mr. Brown walked in the room.

It was the usual class, so far filled with discussion on what makes a stronger contention and how to properly crossfire in a way that will get results while still following the guidelines. Midway through writing her constructive, the tip of her pencil snapped. "Shit," Dylan cursed low under her breath. She rose to her feet and crossed to room to the sharpener.

As the machine whirred away, low and hurried whispers behind her back peaked Dylan's attention.

"… I'm serious, Jess, you can't tell anyone."

It was the two sophomores from before. _No wonder they wouldn't sit near us_. Dylan smirked to herself, ready to hear the juicy details.

"You know I won't," The girl Dylan supposed was named Jess whispered back.

A deep sigh was emitted. "Okay, do you remember that party Keith Richards threw at the end of summer? The cops were called?"

Dylan remembered that party well. It was one of the more crazy parties she has been to, and frankly she didn't remember there ever being any underclassmen there. Nevertheless, flashbacks of chugging contests and taking care of a blacked out Alicia filled her mind as she continued to listen in.

"Well," The first girl continued. "I kind of hooked up with someone-"

"No way! Who?"

"_Shh!_ This is what you can't tell anyone."

"No, no, I promise."

A deep breath. "I had a lot to drink, and I- I didn't know what I was doing, alright? Um, okay, it was _Derrick Harrington_."

The pencil snapped.

**[ ]**

_We sell our dreams and our potential  
>To escape through that buzz<br>Just keep me up, keep me up  
>Hollywood here we come<em>

Derrick tapped his thumbs on his steering wheel as the song came to a close. It was dusk outside the window of his forest green sedan, a feature of fall that he hated the most. It reminded him just how much of his life he wasted everyday, sitting in a classroom. It reminded him of how much he longed to get the hell out of this New York suburb.

He had texted Dylan about an hour ago asking to hangout after the symptoms of perpetual boredom started to kick in while doing his promised homework. His girlfriend's response was short, but as all he needed for affirmation was a simple 'k' and he'd be out the door.

Dylan lived a few blocks away. It wasn't the most convenient distance at most times, but it was manageable. Truth be told, sometimes he actually liked the solitary drive across town with his music playing.

When he finally saw her generously sized, colonial style brick house he pulled into his normal parking space at the end of their circular driveway. He noticed with a tinge of satisfaction that her mother's Lexus wasn't in the driveway.

He twister the brass doorknob of her unlocked oak front door and stepped inside her grand foyer. Dylan's house sometimes reminded him of a museum, but yet he still found it more comforting than his own home. It might've had something to do with the fact that every time he was over her mother never seemed to be home and so it was perfectly okay for him to raid their commercial fridge without any looks. Or, maybe not.

Climbing the stairs three at a time, he reached her room in only a few steps. "Hey," He greeted, pushing her door open. Lounging on her bed, she hardly looked up from her laptop screen as he entered. "Thanks for leaving the door unlocked."

"Hm," She responded curtly.

He crossed to her bed and bent to kiss her, but she turned away. "Um, okay," He said, stepping back. "What's up with you?"

Dylan didn't say anything, just looked up at him with a scornful expression. Derrick paused. He wasn't exactly stupid, he could tell something was up. Hell, from the heat of her glare she could probably turn into Cyclops and melt his face off. He just didn't want to deal with it right now. So, he did what does best in confrontations; tried to change the subject.

"You know that tutoring thing I told you about?" He said, taking a seat next to her on her bed. "Man, it really is a pain in the ass."

"Actually," Dylan's first words to him were simply drenched in anger. "You didn't mention that you were being tutored."

He didn't? Derrick frowned, almost positive that he did say something about it. "Oh," He thought of Massie, and how to explain her to Dylan without her getting angrier. "Well, I'm being tutored. Because I have to get my grades up for soccer."

Dylan seemingly didn't hear him, "And you know what else you didn't tell me?" Derrick crinkled his brows at the question, not knowing what on green Earth she was talking about. "You failed to mention anything about some sophomore slut you banged over the summer at Keith Richard's party!"

Derrick rose to his feet immediately. "What?"

Dylan pushed herself off the bed. "Yeah, I know about her. You should really work harder to keep your trysts a secret."

This couldn't be happening, Derrick looked at the girl in front of him incredulously, not sure whether or not to laugh. "Um, have you been trying out some new herbal methods of recreation lately? Because you must be smoking something."

She scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Of course, you can't even tell me the truth. You know, I thought you had changed from who you used to be last year. I guess I was just too naive to see that you would never change, not even for me."

"Dylan," Derrick sighed. "I really have no idea what you're talking about. I promise you, I didn't-"

"I really don't want to hear it," Dylan brushed past him, and held her door open for him. "I just want you to leave."

Derrick stood there for a moment, trying to figure out if this was really happening. But he could see that even though she was clearly out of her right mind, she meant it. She wanted him out.

He walked past her and out her door, absolutely fuming at how stupid the whole situation was. Dylan wanted to go crazy and accuse him of shit he didn't do? Fine. He was done with the girl.


	4. four

mile five updates are coming soon. i want to get that story done with by the time the new year rolls around.

this chapter is for caroline and mo for their reviews on last chapter

and i think that's everything i want to say right now. so enjoy and let me know how you like it/don't like it so far. you know the drill.

title lyrics are from devil town by tony lucca.

oh and ps- in a spur of the moment decision, i decided to start a playlist for this fic, where you can see what songs inspired a chapter, which ones i was listening to, ect. at this moment, i only have one for the first chapter up, but i'll get the others up soon. links on my profile.

* * *

><p>-<br>_chapter iv: "i was living in a devil town"_  
>-<p>

Thursdays were now Derrick's least favorite day of the week.

He started his morning off in Chemistry, and besides not knowing what the hell they were even talking about let alone doing Alicia was freezing him out, no doubt due to her loyalty with Dylan. And on most occasions Derrick would be completely fine ridding his life of her obnoxious and petty personality but as she was the only person he talked to in that class he spent the entire block period in misery.

Thursdays also meant tutoring.

"Morning," Massie greeted as Derrick took a seat at the table wooden table.

The library wasn't a place Derrick has spent much of his time in. It's a huge space with plenty of books and computers for research (not that Derrick had ever used them for that purpose). The place reeked of learning, from its dark stained wood furniture to the encyclopedia collection in the corner. If it were up to him, he'd be spending his lunchtime in a place that didn't make him feel so inferior. But due to a spontaneous ASB meeting in the student center, their tutoring session had to find another venue.

Derrick flopped his Chemistry lab notebook on the table. "I guess I should warn you I'm completely lost when it comes to science."

"That's okay," Massie leaned forward, the ends of her hair just brushing over the papers in front of her. "That's why I'm here. So what are you talking about in your class right now?"

Even though he just had that much hated class that morning, the precise topics of their discussions were lost on him. "Uh," He started lamely. "It had something to do with reactions."

She smiles at him, not missing that he had no clue what was going on. "Can I see your book? I trust that you actually took notes, right?" Wordlessly, he pushed it across the table towards her.

Derrick watched as she flipped past pages of his scrawl. He took in her features, from her long eyelashes and soft-looking skin. It was almost strange being around a girl who wore little to no makeup. But he also noted it was kind of refreshing. Derrick scratched his arm through his cardigan sweater, catching himself staring.

And he kept on catching himself too. There was something so enthralling about her, and it was really starting to annoy him. There wasn't anything special about her, right? This was just Massie Block, an unknown brainiac who held little interest to him. She wasn't even _that_ hot, he supposed. Sure, she was somewhat attractive and held a little allure, it wasn't enough to-

"Derrick?" Massie looked up from the paper on which she had written a chemical equation.

"Hmm?" Shit. He definitely hadn't paying attention to anything she said.

She sighs and offers up a small smile. He's thankful she didn't react like she did their first meeting. "Something on your mind? Something far more interesting than chemistry?"

He thought quickly. "Just some drama with Dylan, though it's tied with Chemistry on the list of things I enjoy."

"Oh," She set her pencil down. "Yeah, I heard about that."

"What?" Derrick said, surprised. "Where did you hear it from?"

"Kristen Gregory was talking about it in Spanish," Massie looked concerned. "Do you want to talk about it or something? You know, so you can concentrate on what I'm trying to teach you."

"There isn't really a lot to talk about," He said. This was not a conversation he really felt like having. "We broke up. The end."

Massie looked hesitant. "That's it? It's okay to be upset about it, you know."

He huffed. "I also know that this is a tutoring session, not a taping of Dr. Phil." Derrick shifted in his seat. "Sorry."

"It's alright." Being used to having around girls who freak out about every little offense, Massie's understanding manner was a breath of fresh air.

She didn't say anything more, and Derrick rubbed his face. "Can we just keep working?"

"Yeah, okay," Massie picked her pencil up, and leaned closer. She pointed at the equation she had written out. "Um, so this kind of reaction is called a double replacement, and it's basically when both of the reactants switch their negative ions around to form the two different products."

_And let the migraines begin._

**[ ]**

The second half of the school day was no better than the first. He was the recipient of either a cold front or the death glare from the majority of his peers, and by the time the last bell rang he was about ready to knock someone out.

In the parking lot, he noticed Dylan shoot him a glare before climbing into the passenger seat of Alicia's black escalade. He rolled his eyes before throwing his bag in the backseat of his car.

Derrick pulled out of the parking lot, trying to focus on the current song wafting out of his car's sound system and not on the growing irritation he was starting to feel for the majority of his friends. It wasn't really working, and his knuckles tightened on the steering wheel in front of him.

He was about a block away, and nearly seething, when he spotted a familiar figure on the sidewalk. Quickly glancing behind him, Derrick slowed to a crawl and rolled down his window. "Hey!"

Massie turned, expression calming when she saw who it was. She offered up a small smile as a greeting.

"Do you need a ride?" He offered. Derrick wasn't entirely sure what he was doing- it was rare that he let anyone in his car other than Cam and Dylan (although, not so much any more). And Massie wasn't really anyone special to him. She was simply his tutor.

She gave a quick shake of her head. "It's okay, I think I'm fine."

"Come on, I insist." Why was he trying so hard to get her into his car? "It's not a big deal, I can take you home."

Massie stopped walking, looking as if she was having a hard time making up her mind. "Alright," She finally said, releasing a sigh. She stepped into the street and went around to the passenger side of the car. Derrick moved his backpack off the seat and tossed it in the back.

"Thanks," Massie slid into the seat.

"It's no problem," Derrick grew a little more aware of his driving as he accelerated. "So, where to?"

"Just keep going straight for now," She instructed while buckling the seatbelt.

A silence fell over the car filled only by the waves of the radio, which was emitting a song Derrick automatically regretting leaving on. The singer droned on about his lost love for another few seconds before Derrick finally got sick of it and switched it off.

"Turn right at the next intersection," Massie said. He obliged, turning on his turn signal with a flick of his fingers.

"So, do you normally walk home after school?" He asked, a meager attempt to break the awkwardness.

"Not if I can help it. I was caught up in the counselor's office for a few minutes and the busses were pulling away by the time I got out," He noticed her head turn his way. "Don't you have soccer practice?"

"Yeah, but considering how I'm not really on the team right now I think I can afford to take a detour."

"Speaking of," Massie spoke slowly. "Have your grades risen yet?"

"Last time I checked, I only have one D to raise, and that's in Chemistry," Derrick briefly tapped his thumbs against the wheel.

"Okay, we'll work on that more tomorrow," She promised.

Another silence passed by, itching with discomfort. Derrick paid more interest then necessary to his surroundings. He didn't go over to this side of town much. The houses were averaged sized (mostly two stories with a garage and decent sized driveway), but smaller than the ones in his direct neighborhood.

"Take a left, and it's the second on the right." She instructed, fiddling with the strap on her messenger bag.

Massie's house did not have a sprawling lawn or a circular driveway. It was a two story, coffee colored house with brick accenting. In place of a BMW or a Range Rover, a Honda Civic sat in the driveway. It was definitely not what he was used to. But Derrick liked it.

"Thanks for the ride," Massie pulled the latch on his passenger door, and began to step out.

"It's no problem," Derrick felt like something should be said, that whatever conversation they had was left hanging. "Massie!"

She stops and turns, her hand on the door. "Yeah?"

"Thanks for trying to talk today, or listen," As he registered the words that were coming out of his mouth, Derrick wanted to slap himself. What the hell was his problem?

But she smiles anyway, understanding what he was attempting to iterate. "Anytime."

The door shuts, and he watches as she climbers her front steps and enters her house.

**[ ]**

It's extremely hard to fathom exactly how much Derrick loathed to sit on the aluminum benches on the sideline of the pitch, watching as the ball was passed back and forth. Coach Mackley stood only a few yards away with his clipboard, and although his attention was on the scrimmage Derrick could tell he was just _loving_ putting him on the bench.

"Asshole," He mumbled under his breath. When in the hell was that stupid old man going to realize that he was the only chance they have at getting nationally ranked again during the preseason?

"Coach! Hey Coach!" Cam called on the field, a hand clutched at his side. "Can I get a quick water break?"

Derrick heard a grumble emit from the man. "Fine. Hurry Up! And later you should do some more sprints to toughen your endurance. I can't have you wheezing ten minutes into the game."

Cam jogged to the bench, coming to a stop right next to Derrick. "Hey man. How's it going?"

"Swimmingly," Derrick deadpanned. "I'm so sick of watching you guys. It's really made me question how we ever fill the bleachers."

Popping the cap to his water bottle, Cam tipped it into his mouth. "Hang in there. How's the tutoring going?"

"Alright."

"So you'll be back on the field soon?"

Sighing, Derrick leaned forward and rested his forearms on his legs. "Hopefully."

There was a brief moment of silence before Cam spoke again. "I heard about Dylan."

Derrick's blonde head snapped up. "Why does everybody know about that? It's barely been twenty-four hours!"

"It's getting around," Cam said simply. "I heard Josh and Plovert talking about it earlier. What happened?"

Derrick takes a minute to soak in how much he hates everyone's need to gossip in this town. "She went ape shit on me and accused me of sleeping with some sophomore," He says with annoyance. "Sometimes I don't know why I ever decided to stick to one girl. They're psychotic."

His friend took another lengthy sip from his water bottle before tossing it onto the turf. "Did you do it?"

"No," Derrick sent him a glare. "But thanks for your faith in me."

"Hey, just checking. It did kind of sound like something you would do."

"You know how much I hate cheating dicks."

Cam raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. Now on the field, Coach Mackely gave his whistle a sharp toot. "Fisher, your tea party is over! Get back on the field!"

Releasing a sigh, Cam began to walk away. "Please hurry up with your tutoring so you can get back out here," He said quickly.

"Nah, I think I like the way this bench feels on my ass."

As he watched the rest of the practice unfold, Derrick grew more impatient. It was agonizing to sit here and watch everyone play the game he loved most in the world. But even more so agonizing was his replacement.

Liam Barrett has been the second string goalie since freshman year. He wasn't necessarily bad (something Derrick normally hated to admit), but Derrick has always been better, leaving Liam to sit on the sidelines during most games. Though as Derrick was currently ineligible to participate in any form of the game at school, Coach Mackley had brought him in to replace him. And, for whatever reason, it seemed to fuel Barrett's ego. Which completely annoyed Derrick, because it wasn't like he was _actually_ better than Derrick. He was simply the replacement.

"Nice save, Barrett!" Mackley praised as Liam dove to catch a soaring kick from Josh. Derrick's brown eyes rolled. He really hoped Liam didn't get used to playing up with the big boys.

Once practice had finally been called, Derrick joined the rest of the team in the locker room. While everyone else made beelines for to the shower, Derrick was the first to his locker. It wasn't like he had any real reason to shower, anyway.

He felt someone clap him on the shoulder. "Hey man," Josh greeted. "We've been missing you out on the field."

"Yeah, I can tell," Derrick said without turning. "Though I would have thought you would've been happy making more shots in with Barrett in the net."

"He's no you, but he'll do," Josh took a seat on the bench to untie his cleats. "So, why haven't you been joining us out on the wide open green?"

Derrick paused, too preoccupied with trying to think of an excuse to nitpick at Josh's typical fruity word choice. He didn't exactly want his need to be tutored advertised to the team. As the captain, wasn't it his job to promote good schooling habits? He wasn't really too keen on the idea of everyone knowing he got an athletic suspension because of his grades. Call him crazy, but he'd prefer not to be thought of as an idiot by teammates who were supposed to trust him. He briefly thought of Massie before he spoke. "I sprained my ankle a while back and Coach doesn't want to risk further injury," He lied. "It sucks, but I should be back out there soon. "

Josh accepts it without questioning it, and Derrick was thankful for it. Sometimes it was really beneficial to have an ignorantly trusting friend.

"Good job today, Liam," Mackley said to the boy in passing. Derrick could've sworn he saw those beady eyes flash in his direction as he said it.

That overpaid ass.


	5. five

yeah, yeah, mile five. i'm on it. also, i feel a pen name change coming on. maybe. i shouldn't, but i'm tiring of this one.

**thank you:** anglea (are you back yet? come baaaaaaaaaack), ariana (oho! you reviewed twice!), Readingcutie428, it's just real, mo, caroline, Cassieluver4eva, and ThisIsMyPenName101.

chapter title from coldplay's square one.

* * *

><p>-<br>_chapter v: "you just want somebody listening to what you say"  
><em>-

Derrick bounded down the back staircase, the only thing on his mind being a large bowl of frosted mini wheats. Given the past week he had, he was looking forward to the rest of the school getting something else to talk about then his breakup with Dylan. On most circumstances he wouldn't care about the gossip tree that was his high school, but there was something about being unfairly accused of cheating that really pissed him off.

His black Addidas hit the stone tiled floor of his kitchen, and his stepmother looked up at the sound. "Good morning, Derrick." Her face pulled into a smile, brown eyes quickly flickering over to him.

Nathaniel Harrington married Rebecca Thatcher about six months ago, at the start of summer. The engagement was short, about two months long- hardly enough time for Derrick to get used to this new mother figure in his life. Sure, he didn't mind her, but something stopped him from wanting to get to know her. A cold front was automatically put up in her presence.

"Morning," He mumbled back, going to the fridge and getting out the milk.

"Your father had to leave early this morning," Rebecca stated, obviously just for the sake of talking. Her mousy brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun, business suit clean and pressed.

"Hm." Derrick poured the milk over his cereal, desperately wishing she'd stop trying to make small talk.

"When do your soccer games start?"

He stifled an irritated sigh. "We moved up a league this year so we now play in the spring, but we have a few pre-season games set up with other schools that start in two weeks." It was going to be the most stressful two weeks of his life. Between more studying and harder practices, there would surely be a fully stalked supply of Advil at his bedside at all times. He brought a spoonful of cereal to his mouth.

"Oh," She says. He can feel her eyes on him. "Well, I'll be sure to be there. I know your father is excited."

Derrick drank the milk straight from the bowl, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand when he finished. "Nice." He gathered up his backpack and grabbed his car keys. "Gotta run."

Considering past awkward and forced conversation's he's had with Rebecca since she had joined his family, that one went pretty while. He felt a little guilty for always shutting her out and never really giving her a chance. But what did it matter? He'd be out of the house in two years, and would only have to see her over the holidays. That, or she'd be divorced form his dad by then.

**[ ]**

"Test tomorrow!" Mr. Howland called, causing a groan of dread to emit from under Derrick's breath as he exited the classroom. Just what he needed this week. He'll just pile that on top of his 'shit to stress out about' list for this week, right on top of getting back on the team. With the first games starting soon, if he wasn't back on soon he'll never be ready.

The hallways seemed to be overly packed today. He notices with great irritation a group of freshmen stopping traffic by standing in a tight circle at the upcoming junction. A small debate formed in his head about whether or not he should shove them out of the way. But before he could come to a final decision a hand clasped his shoulder.

"Hey man," Kemp Hurley greeted. Derrick nodded in acknowledgment. "I just had the must brutal English class of my life. The substitute got his instructions for the regular class and AP class mixed up but didn't realize until the last few minutes, so we spent the entire class reading some stupid book on this lady who got freaky with a minister and had to wear a stupid letter on her chest."

"_The Scarlet Letter_?" Derrick asked.

"Yeah, something like that," Kemp frowned. "How'd you know? I thought you don't read."

"I don't. Rebecca read it once." Lie. Massie had been immersed in the book during a tutoring session while he was writing an essay, and he was so interested in the way she was so consumed with it he had to ask what it was about.

But the answer seemed to satisfy his friend. "Well, anyway, now we have to do the reading and worksheets we were supposed to do in class along with the actual homework tonight, all because the sub is a serious dipshit." Kemp shook his head.

"Sorry," Derrick said, though partially pleased that he wasn't the only one stressing out about school.

"Whatever. You joining us for lunch today?"

"I can't. Coach wants to talk to me." Another lie. He had tutoring session with Massie.

"Are you back on the team?" Kemp looked hopeful.

"We'll see," Derrick grins in false hope as he watches his friend turn into his next class with a wave. He wasn't quite ready to get back on the team just yet. All that stood in his way from the minimum 2.8 GPA was that dammed Chemistry test.

**[ ]**

Massie Block has always been the studious type.

She discovered her knack for learning in the fourth grade, on the day they started on coordinate graphing in math. It amazed her how easy it all was after her teacher explained it, and it amazed her further when she was the only one who raised her hand to give answers. No one else could get it as easily. It sparked a passion for learning that had since then grown.

Claire Lyons shared this passion- or at least, understood it. Sure, she didn't take as many honors or AP classes as she did, but she didn't roll her eyes or look down on her when she wanted to spend her Friday nights curled up on the couch with the first season of _The O.C. _and a mug full of hot chocolate. In fact, Claire was normally right there next to her.

There were many qualities that Massie appreciated in her best friend. Her persistence, however, was in most cases not among that list.

"Debate club has a meeting right now," Claire informed her casually, inflicting an incredulous look from the brunette. The pair were walking down the 'A' hallway, were most of the social studies classrooms were, on their way to lunch. "You should come."

"I think we've been over this. I can't debate to save my life." This wasn't the first time Claire has mentioned debate club in her presence in hopes to elicit interest in joining the club. "If I was taken hostage in a bank robbery and my only chance of survival was to win a public forum debate, I'd be shot before I finished reading my constructive."

"That's optimistic," Claire frowned. "Also, why would bank robbers force you to debate?"

"Bad analogy, not the point." She sighed, adjusting the shoulder strap to her messenger bag. "Besides, I have to tutor right now."

"Oh yeah?" Claire's light brows raised. "Derrick Harrington, that's right. How's that working out for you?"

"Not terrible. At first he was an ass, but he's been getting better."

"Is he actually stupid?"

Massie sent the slightly taller blonde a look. "No, he's fairly smart. He just doesn't seem to apply himself. You know, I really shouldn't be telling you about this stuff."

"Well, it's not like I beat it out of you." Claire took one arm out of her backpack strap, turning it around so she could access the pockets while they walked. The jingle of key chains could be heard as she pulled out her car keys. "I have to go put my history stuff in my car, so I guess I'll catch up with you later."

"Alright," Massie waved a farewell, taking a turn at the junction they just came up on. Somehow, she found herself almost looking forward to today's tutoring session.

**[ ]**

It had to be the worst week of Dylan's life.

First, she found out her boyfriend had cheated on her. Then, she had to deal with the pitying looks received from everyone in the school after the news magically got out. And to add to the fun, she found out she bombed her history unit test.

However, Alicia was more than willing to support her in this terrible time. She has picked up Starbucks for her before school every morning, and dropped insults at innocent passerbys in attempts to entice a smile. But nothing seemed to work.

Today the duo held court in the lunchroom at their usual table, filled with the rest of the cheerleaders. Kristen Gregory was going on about how much she hated the new uniforms while Skye nodded absentmindedly. Alicia and Dylan ignored them; too busy having their own conversation to care.

"Are you sure you don't want me to?" Alicia asked, sculpted brows raised. "Because I'm sure I can get the whole school to believe he has herpes by sixth period."

"No," Dylan took a sip of her latté. "That's low, and although he's a cheating bastard I won't do that to him."

"Where is that slutty little sophomore, anyway?" Alicia peered around the room, scanning the faces of their peers.

"Probably hiding in the bathroom or something. _Somehow_ the whole school knows what happened," Dylan looked at her friend pointedly as she said this.

"Hey, I had nothing to do with that," Alicia grinned. "She hasn't been to debate in a while either, I noticed."

Dylan frowned. "Even if she was, I wouldn't want you to say anything to her. She's just a stupid underclassman who made the mistake of meddling with our lives. She probably wants the attention. Don't give her the satisfaction."

"But I think she really deserves a good lecture on how to not be a home wrecker." Alicia craned her neck around to glance at the table occupied by rather loud boys. "Her claim to fame seems to be missing in action, too. Think they're together?"

"No, Derrick wouldn't see an underclassmen more than once," Dylan said, remembering his old patterns. "I'm the only girl he ever spent more than one night with. Besides he's probably being tutored."

Alicia coughed, nearly choking on a forkful of her salad. "He has a tutor?"

Dylan nodded. She didn't really see why she had to keep a secret for him anymore. "Yep. He was suspended from the team a while back because his grades sucked. He told me he's being tutored."

"By who?"

Shrugging, Dylan absentmindedly picked a loose thread from the arm of her tweed Alice + Olivia jacket. "Who cares?"

"Wouldn't it just be another girl he can hookup with? I mean, I guess he's obviously not hurt by all of this," Alicia pointed out. "It's just a little annoying for him to just move on after he hurt you like that."

Dylan stifled a laugh. "Leesh, I think you're forgetting who he is. Derrick Harrington would never be caught dead with anyone who tutors people in their spare time."

**[ ]**

"So to find our how many molecules are in 150 grams of Sodium Chloride, you're going to have to first find out the molar mass of one mole."

Derrick could feel his frustration growing the more Massie walked him through the problem. It wasn't her fault- she was a good teacher. The subject matter was just not his strong suit. Nothing she was explaining was sinking in.

"And the once you've done that," Massie scrawled down _58.44 g_ on the paper. "You can use Avogadro's number to represent the number of molecules in one mole. Now, you just multiply and divide across the conversion." She uses the end of her pencil to plug the numbers into a calculator.

"Hey, something you can't do in your head." Derrick pointed out.

She just smiled. "So it's about four point two six times ten to the twenty-fourth." She circled the number after she writes it down. "See? It's not so bad once you know how to get the conversions you want."

"Yeah, well, I don't understand them," Derrick leaned forward, going over her work. "I mean, I get it right now because you _just_ explained them, but I'll forget in a while."

"That's fine," Massie said, flipping the paper over. "But I guess you'll just have to do a few on your own. Repetition should make it easier." She wrote out a question for him to solve.

_How many atoms are in 205 g of aluminum chloride?_

"Okay," Derrick glanced at the textbook open to the periodic table. "So first, I have to find the total molar mass of aluminum chloride," He used the calculator to do some quick calculations. "And then, since that's grams per mole, I can make the change to atoms per mole. So I use avocados number-"

"Avogadro," Massie corrected with a smile.

Derrick grinned. "Yeah, right, him. And that number is 6 point zero two times ten to the twenty-third. Now all I do is divide across the conversion."

_205/133.1 = 1.54_

_1.54/6.02 = 0.255_

"But then I have to change that into scientific notation," Derrick said, remembering that very last step. "Making the answer two point five five times ten to the twenty fourth."

"You got it," Massie smiled, and Derrick found himself grinning as well. "See, it's not so bad." The bell rang, and around them students rose from their seats and began to file out the library. "I guess we don't have enough time to do anymore, but you basically go it. Try to finish the rest."

"Can I keep this sheet to study with?" He asked. He was pleasantly surprised about how easy that problem actually was to solve.

"Of course," Massie said, latching up her messenger bag. "Well, good luck on your test tomorrow."

"Hey, wait up," Derrick called, stopping her before she walked away. "The bell just rang, we have a few minutes. What class do you have next?"

"English," Massie said hesitantly.

"I'll walk you there." He offered.

She didn't looked too convinced at first. But she waited for him to gather his things and swing his backpack over his shoulder using only one strap.

Derrick and Massie left the library together. Much like how it was in the car the other day, Derrick found himself desperate for a conversation topic.

"So, uh," He started, quite lamely. "What other classes are you taking this year."

"APUSH, honors chemistry, french three, AP statistics, AP English, and psychology."

Derrick's satisfaction over his problem solving skills earlier was short-lived. "Oh, sorry I asked. So you're like, really smart."

She shrugged. "I don't think so. I'm more book smart; I just get school."

"That is one of many qualities we do not share. What's you're favorite thing about it, then?"

"I don't know," She shrugged. Then she stopped, seemingly second-guessing herself. "Okay, that's kind of a lie. It's just really cheesy."

"I won't laugh," Derrick said, as sincerely as possible. "You can tell me."

Exhaling, Massie smiles almost sheepishly. "Okay, I really like how it feels after you've just solved a difficult math problem or aced a really hard test. Kind of like there's nothing you can't do. You look back at all the problems you can fix and are just so amazed by what you can do. It's just," She looks over at him, checking his reaction. "Hey! You said you wouldn't laugh."

"Last time I checked, smiling wasn't laughing." Defended Derrick. "It's just that I've never heard anyone talk about school like that."

"Yeah, well," She looks over at him again. "What's your favorite part about school?"

He grins. "I really like how it feels after I hear the bell ring at 2:25 so I can get into my car and go home."

"Are you mocking me?" Massie asks incredulously. But she doesn't sound angry.

"Only a little," He offers up a small laugh. He notices the roll of her eyes, but doesn't miss the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"There isn't anything you like about school?"

"Um," He thought for a moment. How weird it was to be answering a question like this with her. "I guess soccer, if it really counts as a part of school. I love the game, and I love playing it with friends and I love just being _good_ at it. These past couple weeks have really sucked without it."

"Well, glad I can help you back on the team."

"Yeah, thank you. I know I wasn't exactly easy to deal with that first day, but you gave me a second chance anyway."

"I wasn't exactly non judgmental that day either," Massie said, looking at her feet as they walked. "I expected you to be like what I heard you were like, which was cocky and intolerable. I didn't really give you a chance."

"Have I proved you wrong yet?" He smiles. They're just outside of her classroom now, and Derrick realizes it's on the other side of the school from his next class. Though he doesn't really seem to care.

"You're getting there," She smiles, ready to enter the classroom. "Good luck on your test, Derrick."

She leaves him in the middle of the hallway feeling oddly floored.


	6. six

happy 2012!

because it's been a while since i updated this (like you haven't heard _that_ before), this chapter is actually a little longer than normal. it's a little over 4,000 words. so enjoy that.

also, this is kinda really random, but i'm looking for tv show recommendations. i made the partially insane decision to accept the 500 episodes challenge on tumblr, and with the shows i'm watching now i'm not sure i have enough to make it (i'm trying not to count any re-watches). so if you have a show you like and you want me to watch it, let me know by dropping it in a review or pm or even on tumblr.

**THANK YOU KINDLY:** Readingcutie428, angela, mo, BreathingUnderwater, Would-You-Go-With-Me, lyndsey, drowning in technicolor dreams, and ariana.

chapter title from girls like you - the naked and the famous.

* * *

><p><em>-<br>chapter vi: "all the things that make you lighter"  
><em>-

"… _And don't forget to show your spirit tonight at the big game against Abner by wearing red and black. Lacking in spirit gear? Support the senior class by picking up a spirit scarf for $15 in the student lounge at lunch. The chess team went on to win another tournament yesterday…"_

Dylan sighed, her pencil tracing various swirls and hearts in the margin of her notebook. It was game day. A _football_ game day, more specifically. Football game days were significantly less thrilling than soccer game days, but with Dylan's current predicament it was just what the doctor ordered. She'd even take a basketball game day at this point.

Since her breakup with Derrick, life for Dylan had certainly been lacking something. She was no longer the object of envy for every other girl in the school, sure, but what she missed most was being loved. They had never said the words, no, but it felt nice to be wanted once and a while. And with Derrick, she was wanted fairly often. She was having a hard time coping with his absence.

Beside her, Alicia fidgeted in her seat. "The material these new uniforms are made out of is really irritating my skin," She complained, pulling at short black cheer skirt that was part of the ensemble they had to wear for the occasion. "What the hell is this, polyester?"

"I quite like them," Olivia Ryan commented brightly. "They made my legs look longer. And, they'll for sure get us some post game action." The towhead girl was sitting at the table just behind the pair and was, as usual, eavesdropping for an opening into their conversation. She never caught any of the many hints they had dropped her that they weren't particularly interested in her company. Dylan tolerated the girl, sure, but there wasn't much going on upstairs.

Alicia smiled sweetly, turning in her seat. "You know, I never thought about it that way. Thanks for the optimism."

Olivia beamed as if she had just won the lottery, obviously not picking up on just how fake Alicia was being. The poor girl.

"Anyway," The raven-haired girl looked annoyed as the turned back to Dylan. "So at the game tonight, I was thinking that I could just casually slip the health of Derrick's genitals into the fight song-"

"No, Leesh." Dylan said adamantly, cutting her friend off.

She pouted. "Oh, come on! He's an asshole! I really can't believe you're going to sit by and just let him get away with it-"

"We had this discussion before. I just want to move on and get over it, instead of being immature and spreading rumors." Dylan sat up straighter. "I mean, if I'm going to leave this relationship with anything it might as well be my dignity."

Alicia shrugged. "Whatever." A sudden grin spread over her face. "I guess then, since moving on _is_ a goal of yours, you won't object to me helping you get over him by finding you someone to get under?"

Dylan 's head snapped around. "Excuse me?"

"I'm offering to hook you up with someone. You know, help you move on." Alicia smiled, absolutely delighted with the idea. Playing matchmaker was always something she took complete joy out of. And though Dylan despised the idea, she couldn't help but seriously consider it. It would shut her friend up, and it wasn't like she actually had to do anything with the guy Alicia picked out. Besides, Derrick wasn't the only person who could hook up with other people, was he?

"Fine," She agreed. "But none of your leftovers, please. I hate dealing with guys who are still pining after you."

"My list of eligibles just shrunk considerably," Alicia grinned.

Dylan mirrored the expression. "God, you're such a slut."

"I prefer the term 'friendly'."

"Happy Friday!" Their always eccentric history teacher greeted, pulling the pair from their conversation. As per usual, her mousy brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun and she was sporting a black pencil skirt and a cardigan of choice. Today it was purple. "I'll bet you're all _so_ excited for the game tonight. _Go Tomahawks_!" She pumped her fist in the air, eyeing her classroom full of students like a kid at a candy store.

Dylan couldn't help but smile at the deep sigh that emitted from her table partner.

**[ ]**

"Hey guys, shut up," Derrick said over the chatter at his lunch table, trying to catch the attention of his friends. "I have some news."

"Pregnant," Kemp guesses, the comment earning a few chuckles from around the table.

Derrick ignored him. "Actually, I will be practicing with you guys again this weekend."

"Nice," Josh said, holding out his hand for a high five.

"Great, fantastic," Danny said, the sarcasm obviously present. "That's touching. Do you want a Girl Scout badge or…?"

"Yeah, well you're not going to be laughing so much on Monday, are you?" Derrick said, sitting back in his seat. "You know, when I've complete shut you out from scoring."

"Oho," Kemp said. "He's cocky." Cam joined them at this moment, pulling up the seat to Derrick's immediate right. Kemp turned to the new arrival. "Did you hear about this? The almighty Derrick Harrington has chosen to grace us with his presence at practices again."

Cam gave Derrick a knowing look. "Oh really? Your foot is all better then?"

Smirking, he returned the look. "Just _peachy_. And to celebrate this occasion, I was thinking we could go to the football game tonight."

There was silence.

"What?" Questioned Josh.

"Yeah," Kemp leaned forward. "I think I might've missed the suggestion to get shitfaced and instead heard the insane idea to go to the _football game_?"

"Whoa, guys," Derrick held his hand. "They came out and supported us at our games last year. I think it's only fair that we return the favor."

"Uh, we _win_ games," Stressed Kemp. "It's no wonder they show up. But they just humiliate themselves out there."

"For once, I'll have to say I'm with Kemp," Danny added.

Derrick sighed. "It's not about the outcome of the game- it's about supporting them. What kind of assholes would we be if we didn't show our support for our own football team?"

"Smart ones?" Kemp finished for him

Again, he was ignored. "And even if we didn't go, what else would we do tonight? Everyone is going to be there. We'll have to be waiting for it to be over anyways so we can have some real fun. Why not just go to the game and then see where everyone ends up afterward?"

Shared grumbles were heard from all around the table, but they knew Derrick was right. Cam leaned towards him, his voice low so he couldn't be overheard. "What's with your sudden show of responsible leadership?"

"Responsible?" Derrick repeated incredulously. "I'm pretty sure I just promised them we'd be partying tonight."

"That's not what I mean. _They came out and supported us last year? _You've never cared about the football team before."

"Oh, come on. I cared." Derrick defended, taking a sip from his bottle of Gatorade.

Cam's voice lowered even further, if it were possible. "This doesn't have anything to do with a certain red-headed cheerleader, does it?"

Derrick immediately found himself looking up towards her lunchroom table. She sat sandwiched between Alicia and Skye Hamilton, heads bent together in what he recognized as their 'gossip position', or whatever it was that girls talked about that close to one another. Cam's assumption was completely absurd. She never trusted him in the duration of their relationship. She had easily believed some bullshit story over his own word. Why on _earth_ would he miss much an insecure-

Someone passed in front of his view, obstructing his view from Dylan and forcing his gaze away. Massie, with her hair pulled back into a messy bun and bag thrown over her shoulder, crossed the expanse of the lunchroom quickly and with determination. It was obvious she didn't plan on staying in the cafeteria for long.

"Hey, I'm going to go get some more tater tots," Derrick said to Cam, rising from his chair.

Massie was nearing the doors on the opposite side of the room by the time Derrick caught up to her. "Hey, Massie!" He called lightly, still all too aware of the number of people in the cafeteria.

She turned, offering up a small smile at the sight of him. "Derrick, hey." She looked slightly confused. "We don't have a tutoring session today."

"Right, I know." They had only exchanged two sentences and Derrick already felt the awkwardness. "I just wanted to let you know that I passed my chemistry test."

A genuine smile spread on her face. "Derrick, that's great," Massie said earnestly. "Really, _wow_. So you're back on the team then?"

"Yep," Derrick grinned. "I can practice with them again starting this weekend."

"Great," She nodded, still smiling. "So, do you still want tutoring?"

"Yeah, I mean if you don't mind. I doubt I can keep this up on my own without your help. Besides, I'm just barely at the allowed GPA. I'd like to give myself some breathing room."

She laughed. "Sounds good. I guess I'll see you on Tuesday then." She started to turn away.

"Wait," Derrick said, taking a step forward. But when she turned back around, he had completely forgotten what he was going to say. "Um." _Shit._ "Uh, are you planning on going to the game tonight?" What a weird question to ask her. Why should he care? He started to internally chastise himself while he waited for her response.

"The football game?" She clarifies, to which he nods slowly. "Uh, I wasn't thinking about going, no."

"Oh," Derrick said lamely. "Well, you should. I mean, it'll be fun. Sure we'll more than likely be beaten by two touchdowns or more, but you can't beat the atmosphere and the popcorn that probably has more than salt and butter on it." _Jesus, shut up._

Massie doesn't look convinced. "I think I had plans-"

"With Claire?" He finishes for her. "Bring her too."

She sighed, but doesn't look annoyed at his sudden persistence. "I'll ask her."

"Alright," He smiled. "I'll hopefully see you tonight then."

The pair went their separate ways- Massie through the double doors and Derrick back to his table without the tater tots. But neither of them noticed the watchful eyes of a dark-haired cheerleader.

**[ ]**

"This is just pathetic," Cam commented from Derrick's left, watching the field in front of them with dismay. "I can't believe you dragged us out here to watch this slaughter fest."

"Hey, like I said earlier, we're here to support the team," Derrick defended, bouncing on the balls of his feet in an attempt to keep the night chill away.

"And dude," Kemp added, turning form his place in front of the to slap Cam in the chest. "Cheerleaders. Look at the legs on that Abner girl."

Cam sighed, his breath coming out as a puff of fog. "I just wish this torture would end. It's only the second quarter and we're down by two touchdowns."

Derrick had to agree that it was getting tiring standing out in the cold and watching the football team loose. It seemed like a completely worthless way to spend a Friday night. But people always showed up, no matter what. There was something about standing on top of the bleacher benches underneath the stadium lights that seemed to inspire such hope in the student body. Misplaced hope, sure, but hope all the same.

He craned his neck around at the crowd, looking for Massie. He hadn't seen her all night. Quickly, he checked behind him at the higher up bleachers that were normally for the parents to sit at, but he didn't see her there either.

"Who are you looking for?" Cam asked, not missing his friend's quick glances.

"No one."

Cam accepted this, his dark hair falling against his brow. "So, you've never told me what the deal is with you and Dylan? Like, are you wanting to get back together with her or is it a done thing?"

"I haven't the slightest clue," Derrick answered, a little tired of Cam's persistence on the matter. The girl in question was down on the sidelines with the rest of the cheer squad, waving a pompom over her head. The fake, beaming smile he knew she hated so much was plastered on her face. "But it's not really up to me, is it?"

"But do _you_ want to get back together?"

Derrick frowned. "I don't know. What's with the twenty questions?"

Shrugging, Cam turned his sight back on the game. Another attempt at a touchdown by Briarwood was shut down with a particularly rough tackle. "I don't know. It feels like we haven't talked in weeks, what with your tutoring and all."

Kemp and Josh didn't seem to catch this comment- Kemp was yelling his head off over the last play. Derrick shot Cam a pointed look. "Well sorry, but if I'd known some separation would've turned you into a girl-"

"Okay, you're threatened by any display of emotion, I get it." Cam smirked at the look Derrick was giving him. "I was only checking up on you."

"You don't need to. I'm sure I'll let you know when Dylan ever gets over her spell of schizophrenia and wants to get back together with me."

Cam looked prepared to fire back with what Derrick was sure to be another question about his lack of a relationship status, but he never got the chance. "Liam, hey man."

Derrick turned, his face automatically twisting into a slight scowl. Liam Barrett managed to push his way through a opening in the crowded bleachers and take what little unoccupied space there was on Derrick's other side. "Hey," He said, expelling a puff of fog. "Tough game."

"Aren't they always," Josh commented dully, his attention having too been caught at Liam's arrival.

"Barrett, just the guy I wanted to talk to," Derrick said with a small smirk. "It looks like I'll be back on the team this weekend, so I don't think you'll be playing much, if at all, next week in the game against Woodway."

Liam looked unconcerned. "I don't know about that. When's the last time you practiced with the team, mid-September? I doubt Mackley will put you in after missing all that practice. I'll probably still be playing, since I've been working with them practically all year."

Derrick glowered, while Cam looked apologetic. "He's got a point," he murmured low enough so that only Derrick could hear.

"We'll just have to see about that, won't we?" Derrick tried hard not to let show just how much he wanted to punch this kid in the face. He turned back to the game, still seething. Did he now have to worry about fighting some sophomore over his spot on the team?

**[ ]**

"Here," Alicia thrust a piece of poster board at her. "Hold this up at half time when you're given the signal."

Dylan glanced at the front, where a large 'HC' was painted in red. "Homecoming, really? _That_'s coming up soon?"

"Next weekend," Alicia said, repositioning her red hair bow. "It's such shit."

"Who's asking who?"

"Michael Peters is asking Phoebe Marshall, or something." Her friend sighed, looking out over the marching band's performance on the field. "It's pointless to have us ask the girl at all, considering how she's definitely going to say yes."

"_Every_ year someone has us do their work for them," Dylan pointed out. "And last year I think we did two. It's all about the theatrics."

"It's bullshit, is what it is."

"Girls," Missy Cambridge, the squad captain, called. The band was beginning their march off the field. "We're going to start off the second half with the homecoming asking. Michael will come out onto the field during this time so please, try not to kick him in the face." This comment was directed specifically at Olivia, who was gnawing furiously at her thumbnail.

"Oh come on," She protested, her hand leaving her mouth so she could speak. "That was _one_ time. And a total accident."

"You still broke his nose," Kristen Gregory added pointedly.

"He shouldn't have gotten so close to my high kick."

"Guys," Missy warned, dismissing the conversation just as the football team was running back onto the field. "Okay, remember to smile. We're cheerleaders, not four-year-olds who didn't get a _Barbie_ dream house for Christmas."

The squad composed of twelve girls stepped out from under the passageway, now in full view of the speculators. Dylan's already sore cheeks ached from the smile she had just put on. She was never really good at faking it, pretending like she actually wanted to be there. Alicia, however, was so believable that if Dylan didn't know otherwise she would have thought she lived to cheer. The raven-haired girl was bouncing up and down, waving her pompoms with vigor and beaming from ear to ear.

Just before the teams were about to kick off again, Missy took a few steps ahead of the line of girls. "Ready?" She called, motioning to the signs they held. "Go!"

They held them up in a sequence, until their message was readable.

_Pheobe will you go to HC w/ me?_

Michael Peters stepped out onto the turf field, holding a bouquet of roses. Dylan couldn't help but give her head a little shake. It was all so stupid.

There was a commotion in the crowd as Phoebe was found. She wasn't too far into the stands- just three rows back. Everyone parted to let her through, and Phoebe came darting down the benches and through the gap in the rail onto the field. She looked absolutely thrilled, and almost on the verge of tears. She said yes, of course, and the crowd 'aww'ed and hollered and Dylan could have sworn she heard Kemp's voice demanding to see some action (probably not referring to the game). Dylan raked the crowd with her eyes, searching for Kemp and who she knew would be near him She found him almost immediately, flanked on all sides by his usual rat pack. Derrick looked uninterested in the scene before him, looking around at the crowd instead of down at the field.

It struck her then just how much she had been missing him. Did she act a little too prematurely in the whole sophomore thing? Was it possible he had actually told the truth? She hadn't even looked into the rumor, just went straight ahead with jumping to conclusions like she always did.

Skye gave the signal to lower the signs, and Dylan let the poster board slip through her hands. She had really screwed things up for herself, and he would never forgive her.

**[ ]**

"Well, that was a complete waste of three hours," Cam commented, and Derrick found it hard to disagree. As expected, Briarwood lost 42 to 14.

"At least now we can go do something worthwhile," Kemp muttered, zipping up his brown corduroy jacket to combat the chilly night.

They entered the passageway that headed under the bleachers towards the exit. Ahead in the corridor, Derrick spotted the form of a girl leaning against the wall outside of the girl's bathroom. It was Massie, and he stood a little taller at the sight of her.

"Uh, I think I left my phone in the stands," he told his friends. "I'll catch up with you guys at the car."

Not responding to Kemp's comment about his intelligence level, he lagged behind until they had all turned the corner at the end of the hallway to the exit gate. Massie had hardly looked up at their passing.

"Massie!" He greeted, coming up to her side.

She looked up from the tops of her shoes at this. "Oh, Derrick! Hey."

"Hi," Derrick slid his hands into the pockets of his black jacket. "How'd you like the game?"

She paused, as if searching for the right adjective. "It was… alright."

"You can say it was shit, Massie," Derrick says bluntly. "Because there's no way I can't agree with you on that."

Smiling, Massie shrugged. "It's not like anyone was expecting anything better. They've been terrible ever since freshmen year."

"I don't think truer words have ever been spoken. So why are you hanging around outside the bathroom?" he gestured with his pocket, as his hands were still concealed in them. "Do you need a ride or something?"

"No, I'm waiting for Claire," She answered.

"Ah," Derrick could feel that pull in the pit of his stomach, the one telling him that it was about time he wrapped this up before his friends got all the wiser and suspected something. But he couldn't leave. "What did you think of that half-time spectacle?"

"The marching band?"

He gave a short laugh. "No, lover boy and his public declaration that he's whipped."

Massie shrugged, ringlets of her dark hair falling off her shoulder. "I've never really cared for things like that. I mean, if you're going to ask a girl on a date or to prom or whatever, I don't think you should do it in public like that."

Derrick could feel his dark brows peak with interest. "Oh? Tell me then, what is your ideal procedure of being asked out?"

A slight blush creeps into the apples of her cheeks, and she laughed a little. "I'll admit that I don't really have a lot of experience in the department, but I would never want to be asked out in front of a bunch of people like that. It just puts pressure on the girl to say yes. No one in their right mind would reject someone while hundreds of people watched."

"Fair point."

At this moment, her blonde friend decided to emerge from the bathroom. Claire's blue eyes glanced in his direction for the slightest of moments before she turned towards Massie. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," Massie looked back toward Derrick. "I'll see you Tuesday. And congratulations on your test, Derrick."

Derrick is left leaning against the wall, watching her leave.

It was strange how much more worthwhile the night felt.

**[ ]**

Alicia watched the brunette girl depart, eyebrows creased in thought.

"Okay, I'm ready to go," Kristen said, appearing by the girls side. The dirty blonde took this time to notice her friend's distracted expression. "Alicia, what's wrong?"

"Come here," Alicia beckoned, and Kristen leaned in closer. "Do you know who that girl is?" She was pointing to the retreating figure of an average height, brunette girl who walked alongside a blonde girl.

"What, her?" Kristen's eyes squinted. "I have no clue. Does she go to our school or something?"

Suspicion was plentiful in the depths of Alicia's eyes. "I suppose she must."


	7. seven

this chapter was kind of a pain to write, but i finished it. eventually.  
>i'll admit that i sort of gave up with editing the ending, so if it sucks i'm sorry. i'll look over it eventually.<p>

**THANK YOU: **Readingcutie428, hannah, mo, RandomIsMe, ash, the-ballad-of-a-dove, ericka (your penname change confused me for a second :D), ariana, and nicole.

chapter title from _sleepyhead_, by passion pit (the acoustic is more fitting for the mood of this chapter, but hey, whichever version works)

* * *

><p>-<br>_chapter vii: "like stars burning holes"  
><em>-

_saturday, october 15th - 11:54 pm_

Massie's eyes opened slowly, her brain struggling to free itself of the disorientation. The last thing she remembered was working on her psychology packet, which was now strewn at the foot of her bed. She must have fallen asleep. Slowly, her sight focused on the harsh neon of the numbers on her bedside clock, telling her it was just before midnight. Doing some quick math in her head, Massie concluded she hadn't been asleep for all that long- two hours, at most- and she could feel the exhaustion still looming behind her eyes. But if she was still tried, why was she-

A sharp knock sounded at the door, filling in the missing piece of the puzzle. That would explain being pulled out of her sleep. But who in their right mind would be at her door at this hour?

Quietly as she could, she opened her bedroom door and checked her mom's bedroom door, but it was still ajar. Her mother still hadn't returned home from work. But it wasn't unusual for her to stay later than needed, and over time Massie had gotten used to the prospect of being home alone.

Massie descended the stairs to the landing, just as whoever was behind the door knocked again. Rolling her eyes at their impatience, she gave the knob a sharp but careful twist and pulled it open.

It was an understatement to say she was surprised at what she found.

Derrick Harrington stood on her porch, looking almost uncharacteristically sheepish. "Hey," He said, slow and casual, as if him coming to her house at midnight was a regular occurrence. Massie took in his appearance- he was wearing a white dress shirt, black dress pants, and a black tie with what looked to be his usual pair of black Addidas on his feet. _Homecoming_, She recalled, remembering that the dance had been this evening.

But regardless of his dress or his manner, she was a little stunned. "Um," She stared. "Derrick. Wh- what are you doing at my house?"

"Oh, well uh," He scratched the back of his neck. "See, It's kind of a long story."

**[ ]**

_saturday, october 15th - 12:46 pm_

"You've got to be joking," Derrick stated in disbelief. "Seriously, you're kidding."

"No Harrington, I'm not kidding," Coach Mackley didn't look up from his clipboard. "Barrett is going be in goal for the last half of the game."

"I don't understand. I haven't let a single shot in-"

Coach interrupted him. "I can't just put Liam back on JV just because you decided to stop being a little punk. He's earned this, he's going to play."

It was hard for Derrick to restrain himself. He wanted nothing more than to throw that stupid clipboard across the office. But he couldn't, as much as he wanted to. He settled instead for storming out of his coach's office almost certain that steam was visible rising from his ears.

Besides that mishap, the practice game against Woodway was going well. In the first half, Cam, Josh and Danny all managed to score while Derrick had been working on a shut out. A shut out that was about to be ruined by that stupid, smug asshole Liam Barrett.

With a huff, he sat himself down next to Cam on a bench in front of the lockers. Cam, who was tightening the laces on his cleats, turned his head. "What's your deal?"

"Coach Asshole is putting Liam in next half," Derrick said, using his teeth to loosen the velcro strap of his goalie gloves.

"Well," Cam started, obviously looking for the right thing to say to calm his friend down. "It's just a scrimmage." Unfortunately, that wasn't it.

"It's not the point," Derrick snapped.

"What's not the point?" Josh asked, appearing from behind the lockers and joining the pair.

"Derrick's throwing a hissy fit because Barrett's going in for him next half," Cam answers before Derrick got the chance to open his mouth.

Josh's dark brows raise. "Derrick's jealous, that's adorable." He grinned mockingly, allowing every one of his white teeth to be visible.

"Fuck off," Derrick mumbled.

"Hey Derrick," Liam himself greeted, joining the trio. Cam shifted, stifling a smile, while Josh pretended to be busy getting something out of his locker. "Can I get the gloves from you?"

"These gloves are mine," Derrick said stiffly, never looking up from his shin guards that he was pretending to adjust. "There are team gloves are in the equipment closet."

"Thanks," Liam said, turning to head in the direction of the closet.

They didn't speak until the sound of Liam's cleats couldn't be heard over the chatter of the rest of the team off in the other parts of the locker room. Derrick was the first to break the silence with a scoff.

"That douche thinks I use the _team's_ gloves."

**[ ]**

Much to Derrick's disappointment, Liam didn't completely suck. The JV goalie managed to hold on to Derrick's shut out. Granted, there were a few close calls that a part of Derrick wished he had actually let through, but they won the game and that was what mattered.

Or so it would seem.

Pushing the locker room door open, Derrick readjusted the strap to his Briarwood High School duffel bag. As usual, there was a crowd of parents and well-wishers waiting for the team to appear just outside the locker room. And, as usual, the form of Nathaniel Harrington stuck out like a sore thumb. Why he insisted on dressing semi-casual to a high school soccer game, Derrick would never understand.

"Hey, dad," Derrick greeted, approaching him void of enthusiasm. He glimpsed Cam in his peripherals embracing his own father in some sort of playful embraced while Mrs. Fisher looked on in amusement.

Derrick's father crossed his arms. "Why weren't you playing second half?"

Someone might as well have dropped a sandbag on Derrick's chest. Of course that would be his first concern. "Because," He started almost bitterly, not meeting his father's eye. "Coach wanted to put Liam in to get him more practice. He thinks it would be a good idea to give him some playing time, as these games don't really matter-"

"Don't matter?" Nathaniel repeated. Derrick sucked in a breath, knowing immediately that was the wrong thing to say. "Derrick, all games matter. Just because no one is officially recording the score doesn't mean your performance here isn't seen by scouts. And when there's no performance, there is no scout recognition."

"Okay, dad," Derrick said, voice just above a mumble.

"I think I should have a chat with Coach Mackey about this," His father grumbled, looking past Derrick's shoulder for the man in question. "It's absolutely ridiculous for him to infringe on your playing time. He's compromising with your future, you know."

"He went home already," Derrick lied, trying to avoid a scene. "But I'm sure you can talk to him on Monday."

"Oh, I plan to," Nathaniel said gruffly, beginning to lead the way from the stadium grounds. "I assume that you took your own car here?"

"Yes," Derrick said. "But I'm not coming straight home. I'm going to Cam's house."

"Isn't that dance tonight?" He sounded gruff, and Derrick was surprised he even knew. But then he remembered Rebecca, and how she lived for things like that. The weekly news bulletin the school sends out really wasn't all that helpful to him.

"Yes."

"Are you planning on going?"

Derrick knew the question only served as a formality. "It's more than likely."

"Right, well," Nathaniel clapped him on the shoulder. "I suppose I'll talk to you later then. We need to work on your dives." The only response he received was a short, disinterested head nod. But this went by unnoticed. "Okay, have fun, son."

And he left for the parking lot without so much as a second glance.

**[ ]**

"I can't believe we're going stag to this thing," Kemp whined, loosening his necktie.

"Well Kemp," Cam said from his left. "If the prospect of going alone bothered you so much, you should've asked someone. That's kind of how this works."

"That would require him to actually be with a girl for more than his usual ten minutes," Derrick said, chiming in.

"Nah, ten minutes is too long," Cam was grinning now. "Try like three."

"Hey!" Kemp protested.

The trio was in high spirits as they trekked across the parking lot to the Briarwood gymnasium. Neither of them had dates- Cam not being interested in anyone, Derrick assuming he was just a little too good for things like high school Homecomings, and Kemp forgetting about the entire thing until Friday afternoon. Nevertheless, here they were.

"I still think we should skip this shit," Derrick said. They could hear the thumping bass of the music clearer the closer they went to the building. "What do you say- all night marathon of Skyrim?"

Cam sighed. "No, Derrick. We aren't even going to stay that long."

"Besides," Kemp added, leaning closer to Derrick. "I have plans to spike the punch. Could be fun."

Derrick shrugged. "Could be, but it probably won't. You'll get caught again like last year and your parents will have to settle it with a hefty donation or whatever it was that they did."

"I will not," Kemp argued. "I have taken precautions to be less conspicuous about it. For example," He reached into the deep pocket of his black dress pants and pulled out a metallic silver flask.

Derrick raised an eyebrow. "Are you worried someone will poison you, Mad-Eye?"

"Ha ha," Kemp laughed dryly. "But you won't be poking so much fun when all the girls are wasted out of their minds and find themselves flocking to me."

"Right, because in order for you to get any girls they have to be drunk first."

"Ladies," Cam said, before Kemp could retort. They were now at the doors. "Let's be civil. And have fun." He looked sure of himself, which was a fairly rare thing for him. "We have a win to celebrate, after all."

Derrick felt like he was in a bad, made for TV high school movie. The gym was decorated with streamers, hanging lights, ridiculous amounts of flowers, and a god-awful balloon arch above the entrance. The only thing that reminded him he was not at a bar mitzvah was the tangle of bodies on the dance floor.

_There_ was the borderline vulgar adolescent behavior he was used to.

"Well," Derrick started. "Now what, Cammy boy?"

But Cam wasn't to be let down. "I see Danny and Josh over in the corner. Lets go join them."

And so began what Derrick was sure to be a wasted night of disappointments.

**[ ]**

Dylan was in some kind of haze. Her head was spinning, eyes seemingly unable to focus on anything for too long. Her skin was flushed and nearly slick with sweat. Yet she was enjoying herself, weirdly enough. She pressed herself further against the senior boy next to her, swaying to the beat that seemed to mimic her pulse. She couldn't remember the last time she felt like this. It was almost liberating, freeing. _Almost_.

The song ended, and she pushed away from the boy without a word. Breathing heavily, she broke free from the crowd on the dance floor and retreated back to Alicia, who had been observing the scene from her place at one of the tall tables in the far corner.

"Damn," She commented with a smile once Dylan was close enough to hear. "I like this version of Dylan. So, who was he?"

Dylan shrugs. "I don't know, some senior."

Alicia placed a hand on her chest. "Oh my god, it's like you're me. You're my own little protégé!"

"Um, no, because I didn't take him to the bathroom or the janitors closet."

Scoffing, Alicia took a sip from her punch. "That was one time…"

"I'm pretty sure it was more than once," Dylan said. "Last year's Homecoming, the Winter Ball…"

"Okay, okay!" Dylan was cut off by Alicia's protest. "But I'm glad to see you finally making some progress on your goal to move on from Derrick."

"Um, about that," Dylan started, not looking up. "See, I've been thinking about it, and-"

"Please don't tell me you're considering getting back together with him. Dylan," Alicia said, lowering her voice. "He _cheated_ on you."

"Did he?" Dylan questioned. "For all we know, that girl was lying for popularity of whatever reason. I never even talked to him about it, either. I just jumped to conclusions. How do I know if it's the truth?"

"Derrick Harrington is a man whore," Alicia said firmly. "The entire school knows it."

Dylan shook her head. "You don't even know him, Alicia."

"Oh, and you do?" Alicia looked amused, her eyes flickering with skepticism. "Please, Dylan, you dated for a little over two months."

It was weird to be arguing about this with Alicia. Dylan said nothing more, but she quietly stored her frustrations. Why was she so quick to paint Derrick as a terrible guy? Couldn't she give him a break?

"I'm going to go get some more punch," Dylan said, making an excuse to leave. "Do you want some?"

"No, I'm fine," Alicia said. "Besides, I see a lonely lacrosse player just begging for some attention."

Dylan sighed, taking her leave from the table and crossing the gym floor to the refreshments. Sometimes it was so infuriating being friends with Alicia.

"Excuse me," She elbowed her way through a group of her peers to access the punch bowl. Dipping the ladle into the pink mixture, she was about to lift it into her cup when a voice spoke out.

"I really wouldn't do that."

She didn't really need to turn to know who it was. She could pick out Derrick Harrington in any crowd, just by his voice.

Dylan smiled, trying to look somewhat alluring. "Oh? And why's that?"

He shrugged, leaning his tall frame against the table. Dylan watched him for a moment, but he didn't say anything more. Slowly, she brought the plastic cup to her mouth and took a sip. She nearly spit it back. "Oh my god," She sputtered. "That's more vodka than punch."

Derrick grinned boyishly. "Yeah, Kemp spiked it."

"Proud of him, are you?" Dylan said, pouring the punch back into the bowl.

"Maybe a little." He said, moving his gaze out over the gym.

They didn't say anything for a while, but Dylan was desperate to start something up again. This was the first time they've talked in weeks- who knows when her next chance will be. "Um, Derrick, I was actually hoping to talk to you."

He turned his head, mildly interested. "Okay. What about?"

"I just, um," Dylan started. His eyes, light brown and flecked with what looked like gold, were trained on hers. She had forgotten what that felt like. "I feel bad we left things the way that we did. I mean, I accused you and then you just left."

"Yeah, well," Derrick said, looking down at his feet. She knew what he wanted to say- it was her fault, after all.

"It was unfair of me to call you out without hearing what you had to say," Dylan said earnestly. "So, I'm sorry for that."

He didn't say anything, but Dylan wasn't really expecting anything else. Derrick was never really the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. But she was willing to go one step further.

"Maybe we could start over? As friends, I mean."

Derrick looked pensive, as if mulling over her request. "You know, I could go for that." He held out his hand. "Friends?"

Dylan smiled, and met his grip with hers. "Friends."

They stood in a comfortable silence for a beat or two. Dylan was simply reveling in the fact that things were starting to become okay again between her and Derrick. It wouldn't be long now until they were back to the way things used to be.

"Hey, so I'm going to go find Cam," Derrick said, breaking the trace Dylan apparently was in. "Talk to you Monday?"

"Yeah," Dylan smiled. "Monday."

She watched him leave with a renewed sense of hope.

**[ ]**

"Wait, so she said she wanted to start over?" Cam asked, his voice straining just to be heard. The DJ had picked the exact moment Derrick had relayed what just happened to his best friend to pick the tempo back up. It was pounding, just like Derrick's head. "What does that _mean_?"

"I think she said friends," Derrick shouted back. "Or whatever. I don't know."

"Maybe you'll get a chance to tell her the truth," Cam says. He notices Kemp on the corner of the dance floor, getting acquainted with some unfortunate lower classmen. He smiles, and points this out to Derrick. "How drunk do you think he is right now?"

"Completely hammered, I'm sure," Derrick said. The scene Kemp was displaying reflected the poor performances of the chaperones, both of which were nowhere to be found. He watched him with amusement for a moment or two, thinking about what had just transpired between Dylan and himself. He couldn't deny that it would be nice to be on friendly terms with Dylan again. It wouldn't hurt to get the truth out so the other half of the class would stop hating him. But after three weeks he had gotten used to the notion that he would never speak to her again. And he was doing just fine.

He grew hot, the stuffy heat suddenly stifling. Derrick found himself aching to get out of there. "Hey," He leaned closer to Cam. "I think I'm going to take off."

"Really?' Cam checked his watch. "It's hardly eleven thirty."

Derrick wasn't really in the mood to explain his decision-making. He motioned to Kemp and his erratic dancing. "Can you two find a ride home?"

"Yeah, probably. I'll see you around," Cam clapped Derrick on the shoulder. "Good game today!"

Derrick smirked. "Yeah, thanks."

As he pushed open the doors of the gym and stepped out into the fresh air, his mind swam. He barely registered crossing the parking lot to his car, getting in, or starting up the engine.

He didn't know what it was that he wanted. If he was completely honest with himself, he was never really all that interested in Dylan to begin with. It was apparent that she had always been more interested in him than he was in her, but he didn't have a problem with stringing her along. She was nice enough, hot enough, _willing_ enough…. But just not quite enough. He could never really seem to become as invested in the relationship as she was. He didn't cheat, he never would, but he saw it as a fling and nothing more.

And when Dylan dumped him with those accusations, he couldn't say he didn't feel some sense of relief. But it was a weird thing to get used to. He found himself missing her, though not really understanding why. If she would have had that conversation with him days after the incident, he would have taken her back in a second. But now…

Derrick seemed to have been driving on auto pilot- he was quite a few blocks out of town. A quick glance to his dashboard clock told him that he'd been driving for a good ten minutes. He didn't really have anywhere to go. Home sounded less than inviting. Everyone he knew was at the dance, but that was unbearable.

Wait. Not _everyone_ he knew was there.

It took him a while to find her house again. The dark wasn't exactly an ally in his hunt, either. But nevertheless, he found it another ten minutes later.

The windows were dark, the Civic gone from the driveway. He briefly realized that she could not even be home at all, and maybe popping up on her doorstep unannounced was not the brightest idea he's ever had. But, it was here or nowhere.

He parked his car on the street, killed the engine, and made his way up the walk. The night was chilly, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets, shoulders hunched.

Derrick was in front of the door now. Exhaling, he raised his fist and knocked.

**[ ]**

_saturday, october 15th - 11:56 pm_

Massie's room was neat.

It was the first word that popped into his head after seeing the place. Organized was the second. Whereas Dylan's bedroom held mirrors and makeup, Massie's held books and posters. And the posters were a main source of his fascination- they told him more about her than she ever had.

"So," Massie started, awkwardly standing in her doorway. "Why exactly are you here?"

"I told you," Derrick said, tearing away from a decorated wall and turning to look at her. "I figured we could go on a joy ride. You know, paint the town red or whatever that saying is."

"Derrick," She warned.

He grinned. "Okay, so I don't really have a reason for being here. I guess I just didn't feel like going home. Do you want me to leave?"

Massie paused, mulling over the situation. She eyed him almost warily, and Derrick had to keep from shifting. It wasn't everyday he found himself scrutinized over his morality levels. "No," She said finally. "You can stay."

"Thanks," He said. His eyes catch the open textbook on her bed. "Were you studying?"

"Kind of," She closed the book, and he got a glimpse of the cover: _Statistics and Functions_.

"We have a stats class at Briarwood?"

"Only an AP one," She says, tucking it under her bed.

He raised his brows. "Oh. No wonder I don't know it exists."

She took a seat on the edge of her bed, and Derrick leaned against her desk. They sat in silence; the only noise to be heard was the soft ticking of the clock on her wall. The more time passed, the more awkward the atmosphere became.

"So, how was your game?" Massie's sudden articulation caused him to start.

"Good," Derrick answered automatically. "Well, okay, maybe not _good_. Alright."

"Just alright?" Massie asked. "Aren't you Derrick Harrington, the boy who lives and breathes for soccer, who once told me that the game was his favorite part of school? Since when does soccer ever classify as 'alright' in your books?" She's smiling, and he got the sense that she was partially teasing him.

Derrick scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, when your game time in cut in half it's not as much fun."

She looked puzzled. "Cut in half? Aren't you the best goalie on the team?"

"Um," He couldn't help but smile at the claim. "Not necessarily. I mean…" He pauses briefly. "Coach gave our JV goalie the second half of the game to play."

"Oh." Derrick knew Massie could pick up on the bitterness in his voice, but she was being polite in not asking more on the subject. He figured that he might as well continue.

"Yeah, and because of it, my dad's on my ass about playing time and scouts. I think he thinks that it's somehow my fault I got taken out second half." It was more than he's ever really said to her that struck anywhere near personal. But he couldn't really stop. Once it was out, it was out. "I mean, you could see it that way, I suppose, because if I was never failing it wouldn't have given Coach a reason to replace me. But I mean, who cares? These are practice games. I'll be back out there full time once the regular season starts. I just don't get why he's making such a big deal out of this."

Derrick brought his gaze back up to Massie's, and he realized the only person who was more surprised over his outburst than him was her. "Uh," She starts lamely, no doubt searching for words. "Does your dad normally freak out over games?"

"It like the only thing he really cares about that involves me." Derrick was at the point where he didn't care what he said anymore. It was Cam who normally heard him out about these things, and it was Cam who was actually aware of his relationship with his father. But Cam was still in a stuffy gym, and Massie was here. "He's never really paid that much attention to anything else."

"Not even when you were failing?"

"He didn't even know. If I told him I was removed from the team because of it, he would've thrown a fit. And he wouldn't be telling me to raise my grades, either. He'd be calling the school, making threats or offering donations just to get me back on the team."

"That sucks. What about your mom? What does she say about this?"

"Next time I'm in Malibu I'll be sure to ask her."

There wasn't pity in Massie's eyes when she heard this. It was more of an understanding, a nearly undetectable empathy that was really all that he wanted from her. She listened, and he talked.

"Yeah, that's my story," Derrick said. "But what about you? Won't your parents be concerned with my being in your room after midnight?"

He could tell she saw right through his forced smile, but again she knew when not to pry. "My mom's still at work, so I doubt she cares all that much. Besides, she trusts me."

She doesn't mention a dad, and Derrick picked that out right away. But he returns the favor of not prying, to let her tell when she's ready, and says nothing about it. "Yeah, you're probably the golden standard of teenagers."

She shrugs. "The grades don't hurt."

"Yeah, you and your AP classes. What is it that you want to do after high school, anyway? Become a rocket scientist?"

"I don't really know," Massie said. "And I know that by this time, we're supposed to know, but I haven't got the slightest idea. I kind of figured that if I do really well in school and get good grades I'll at least be able to do it when I figure it out."

"Not exactly a terrible plan," Derrick said. "Worst comes to worst, you could become a teacher."

"A teacher?" She repeated, skepticism present.

"You managed to teach me something."

Massie smiled softly. "Good point. I guess that's one career I can keep in mind. But what about you? What do you have in mind for the future?"

"Soccer, probably. That's where it seems like everything's going. And I like it, so it's not really a problem. It's not really something I've thought about, either. I just kind of accepted it."

She paused. "Hey, can I give you some advice?"

"Go for it."

"Don't do something just because it's expected of you." Maybe it was the expression on his face, but she decided to elaborate. "If soccer ever somehow becomes less fun or enjoyable and you feel yourself dreading to step out onto the field, then stop doing it. Don't make yourself hate something you love at the expense of others."

Derrick shifts. "Thanks, but somehow I really doubt I'll ever end up dreading soccer."

She shrugs. "All I'm trying to say is to do the things you want to do, and do them for you, otherwise there isn't really a point, is there?"

He had to admit he was a little speechless at her words. Here sat someone who, a month ago, he would have dismissed as irrelevant and insignificant telling him one of the most honest pieces of advice he's heard in years. His entire outlook on Massie seemed to change in that instant. He no longer saw her as simply his tutor, someone who existed in his world only because he needed her for his personal gain. But yet she had been willing to help him, to listen to him, and did so with an undeserved amount of patience and interest.

Massie Block was an enigma. And Derrick Harrington was determined to figure her out.


	8. eight

it is a monday.

and it is also spring break for me, and my plan is to write. i don't know what that means exactly.

**THANK YOU: **kath, emmy, mo, cliqueluv, and ariana

chapter title from coldplay's _x&y._

* * *

><p>-<br>_chapter viii: "i wanna love you but i don't know if i can"  
>-<em>

There was an unusual amount of spring in Dylan's step as she flounced through the hallways Monday morning. It was the first time in weeks she had felt this hopeful. Not even a pop quiz in history could bring down her mood. The fact that she hadn't the slightest idea what any of the question were talking about didn't even faze her. She listened to Alicia's constant bitching over Kori Gedman's abrading attitude without batting an eyelash.

Nothing could touch her today.

Because Derrick said they could be friends. Because being friends meant she was one step closer to accomplishing her goal of undoing that confrontation in her room back in September. Because she now knew she was willing to do whatever she could to fix it.

She could feel eyes on her as she crossed the cafeteria,but her own pair were fixated on locating him. There was Josh and Kemp, sat at their table crowded around open textbooks (trying to finish homework for the next class, probably). Danny Robbins huddled close around Chris Plovert as the pair flipped through sports magazines. But no Derrick.

_He must be with Cam_, Dylan figured, also taking into account the absence of the lanky teenager. She tried to recall other places they might be at. The weight room, maybe?

She ducked form the cafeteria and off towards the gymnasium.

**[ ]**

If it was one thing Alicia hated, it was not knowing everything.

Of course, 'everything' did not apply to her schoolwork. She really couldn't care less that she was unable to recite every element on the periodic table or give you a detailed explanation of the cause of the Cold War. She wanted to know gossip. She wanted to be involved in everyone's business- everyone that mattered, that is. And as it just so happened, the brunette nobody who hangs out with Derrick Harrington just earned a spot under that category.

However, Alicia hadn't the faintest idea who she was. She had been keeping her sharp eyes peeled in the halls for days trying to spot her, but has yet to glimpse the girl again. It was frustrating her to no end. People don't just disappear.

But it wasn't until this morning that she realized whom she could ask. Obviously, he would know. He knew everything pertaining to Derrick. However, he and Alicia had never really got along. They traveled in the same circles, yes, but if it was one thing Alicia had learned over the past few years it was that Cam Fisher was the only boy in the school who did not have the desire to land her in bed, let alone talk to her.

When Cam slammed his locker closed that Monday morning, Alicia was sure to be there waiting for him. He gave a slight jump, startled by her sudden appearance. "Mother of fuck…" He leaned his forehead against the locker and exhaled. "Don't come up on me like that."

Alicia cocked her eyebrows. "Whoops."

His peculiar eyes swept over her warily. "What do you want?"

"Are you always this hostile, Fisher?" She retorted, referring to his icy manner. Giving an irritated huff, Cam turned and began to walk down the hallway. But Alicia's long legs kept up with the speed of his stride. "Look, I know we've never really gotten along, and for whatever reason you're convinced I'm a little _loose_-"

"'Little' is kind of an understatement."

"Oh, so you admit it then? You hate me because you think I'm a slut?"

"First of all, I don't hate you," Cam said, still refusing to slow his pace. "Second of all, even if I did, it wouldn't be for your after-school activities. The reason I've never taken any interest to get to know you is because, contrary to what you seem to believe, I think you're a terrible person. No offence."

"The 'no offence' does absolutely nothing, just so you know. It mostly just a term to make insults seem socially acceptable."

"Oh, I know that. I just wasn't so sure how you'd take the honesty."

Alicia rolled her eyes. "Oh please, St. Fisher, enough with the false sense of morality."

"False sense of morality?" He repeated. "_This_ coming from Alicia Rivera..."

"I never said I was morally right, but there really isn't anything wrong with me expressing my sexuality-"

Cam cut her off. "What do you want, Alicia?"

The girl grinned, enjoying his annoyance with her. "I just had a question for you, actually." She paused after this, purposefully prolonging it at his expense.

He glared at her, waiting for her to speak up. After only a few seconds of silence, he huffed. "_Well_, what is it? I really don't have time for this."

"_Well_," Her grin slowly disappeared. "I was wondering if you could solve a mystery for me. You see, at the football game two weeks ago I saw this girl who I swear I've never seen before in my life, but you know, as she was at _our_ football game that obviously means that she must go here-"

"She could go to Abner," Cam pointed out in monotone.

"It's possible, sure, but I'm thinking otherwise. She's of average height, dark brown hair that goes just past her collar bone, dresses rather plainly if I do say so myself, hardly wears any makeup which I think is a travesty because she could really use some more on the eyes to bring them out better-"

"If you want me to identify this girl, you're going to have to be more specific than that," Cam said, pausing briefly to maneuver around a hoard of freshmen standing in the middle of the hallway. "Although honestly, you've described about half the girls at this school so far. I don't know why you think I can help you."

"Because I saw her talking with Derrick."

Cam shrugged, looking non-pulsed. "So?"

"So, as one of the few people in this school who actually knows jack squat about Derrick I figured you would be clued in as to who he chooses to spend his time with."

"Sorry to let you down, but I haven't the faintest idea who you're talking about."

If he was lying, he did a good job at hiding it. But Alicia was not satisfied with that answer. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," He eyed her suspiciously. "Why do you want to know, anyhow? It's not like whom he chooses to speak to is any of your business."

"As Dylan's best friend, I find it my business to make sure Derrick isn't seeing other people."

"Seeing other people? They aren't even together anymore!"

Alicia shrugged. "Maybe not right now, but I recognize that look in Dylan's eyes. And it's not like you can't stand there and tell me they aren't going to get back together. I mean really, it's _Dylan_ and _Derrick_. Who else in this school is more suited for each other?" Cam said nothing to this, focusing his attention instead further down the hallway. "The point is, I'm not going to let Dylan be hurt again because Derrick can't keep it in his pants-"

"Okay," Cam rounded on her, stopping in the middle of the hallway. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about." Alicia cocked her eyebrows challengingly. "Dylan chose to listen to a rumor instead of her own boyfriend. She got hurt due to her own insecurities. Stop trying to pin this on Derrick."

Alicia acted unfazed by his outburst. "Your bromance runs deep, huh?"

Cam let out a scoff, shaking his head. He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but must have thought better of it as he stalked away. Alicia lost sight of Cam's unruly head of hair in the throngs of her peers, left with nothing more than what she started with.

**[ ]**

**CAM FISHER: alicia asked me about massie this morning.  
>DERRICK HARRINGTON: what? why?<br>CAM FISHER: because she's a cow. and a vulture.  
>DERRICK HARRINGTON: my phone just combusted from all hatred radiating from that text. that's pretty harsh coming from you cammy boy.<br>CAM FISHER: yeah, well, she's vile. and also convinced that you and dylan are getting back together but are unable to do so because you're currently with massie. 'with' having the more physical implement in this case.  
>DERRICK HARRINGTON: great.<br>CAM FISHER: mhm, not really. you know she'll be all over this entire situation until she finds out what she wants to know, even if it's not the truth.**

**[ ]**

Derrick ran a hand through his mussed hair, stifling a yawn. Like everybody else at one point in their lives, Derrick loathed Mondays. He typically spent the majority of the morning doing the homework he neglected to do over the weekend- so, _all_ of it. This week was no different. He spent math class doing chemistry homework, and chemistry doing history. But it wasn't until this particular morning that he wondered why he had even been surprised at his lack luster grades to begin with.

When the bell rang to end second period, Derrick had a completed history assignment and no chemistry notes. He needed a better system.

Massie had asked about his studying habits at the start of their arrangement, and of course she suggested the obvious idea of doing his homework when he was supposed to. His studying habits, she had said, were causing a domino effect that impacted all of his grades. How was he supposed to pick up his grades if he was constantly playing catch up?

Smiling at the memory, Derrick moved past a group of loitering sophomores who stood in a herd nearly Mr. Howland's classroom door. It was endearing how seriously Massie took school. Her own homework system consisted of a color-coded planner with tabs and sticky notes. It fascinated him. Though, he realized, he found almost everything she did or said fascinating. She wasn't like anyone he's ever hung out with. Her world doesn't revolve around soccer or parties or sex– at least, he didn't think it did. It was refreshing, talking to her.

Unfortunately for Derrick, their next scheduled session wasn't until Tuesday. Still, it wasn't as if he wasn't allowed to talk to her outside of them, was he?

It wasn't really all that difficult to find her. He briefly wondered if she spent every waking moment of her time that wasn't spent in class in the library. She was just disappearing behind a self in the non-fiction section when he had spotted her.

Her back was turned to him, so she didn't notice when he approached her.

"Good morning," He said slightly, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards at her obvious surprise.

"_Jesus_," Massie spun around with a hand held to her heart. "Don't come up on me like that, Harrington."

"Was that a swear word emitted from your mouth?" His brows crinkled. "And since did we start calling one another by our last names?"

"I would hardly consider 'Jesus' to be a swear word, and I'm sure the religious portion of our population would agree. And sorry, that sort of slipped out. I won't say it again if you'd like."

"No, it's fine. _Block_." He smiled briefly after adding on that last part. Massie seemed to flush slightly, but it could've just been the poor lighting messing with his sight. "What are you up to?"

She sighed, but didn't sound annoyed, turning back to the shelf and continuing her previous task of returning books to their proper places. "I have a research-based essay due Wednesday, and I needed some printed resources."

Derrick leaned casually against the shelf next to her. "On what?"

"Reproductive rights," she answered. "Kind of a tricky thing to write about, especially considering I'm arguing for the protection of those rights and I'm sure I'd offended someone by squeezing, 'misogynistic pigs' somewhere into my conclusion."

Derrick shrugged. "The truth hurts sometimes. Don't be afraid to offend someone. If you're going to take a stance on something, don't do it half-assed. Speak your mind- or write your mind, I guess."

Massie's thin brows were raised. "Wow, how inspiring. Although I could apply that same speech to you and your schooling habits. _'Don't do it half-assed'_."

He smiled again. He'd been doing that a lot in the past couple minutes.

"We're not scheduled for today," Massie slid the last book back on the shelf and faced him almost mimicking his stance. "What can I help you with?"

"I have to have an appointment to talk to you? Someone needs to knock you off your high horse."

Thankfully, she didn't miss the playful teasing in his voice. "Can you blame me? I mean, would we really be talking otherwise?"

"Ouch, judgmental much?"

She looked at him skeptically. "I haven't seen you in the presence of anyone outside of the soccer team. Or the cheerleading team, for that matter."

"So it's a crime to hang out with people with similar interests to myself?"

"You're interested in cheerleading?"

Derrick shook his head. "Nope. Cheer_leaders_."

He could sense her resistance to roll her eyes. "My point _being_, I have reason to be skeptical over your coming to find me for a talk. When have you ever?"

"I never figured you were such a pessimist. You know, if everyone thought like that, no one would talk to anyone." She flashed him a look that he interpreted as 'shut-up-and-tell-me-what-you-want', and he complied. "But basically, I just wanted to talk."

"Really? You just want to talk?"

"Really."

"No reason at all?"

"No reason at all."

She still didn't seem to believe him. "Hey, I came over to your place on Saturday just because and you let me in without questioning." He pointed out. "Why aren't I allowed to do it again?"

"Because when people I know show up on my doorstep at midnight, I'm inclined to believe that something really bad has happened and of course I'll let them inside." She sighed. "But I guess I'm not being fair, am I?"

"Nope. Completely unfair, if you ask me."

Massie smiled softly. "So what do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know, anything." He was silent for a moment. "What's your favorite color?"

"My favorite color?" She repeated, sounding even more skeptical than before, if it were possible. "Um, green, I guess."

"Like a _green_ green or a sea foam green or-"

"A light green, like celery, or something."

"Celery?"

"One of the more fibrous vegetables, yes."

There was a small beat of silence. "This is the part where you ask what my favorite color is."

"Oh, right. What's your favorite color?"

"Orange."

Her smile turned more playful, a sight he realized he liked to see. "Like pumpkin orange or red-orange or yellow-orange-"

Derrick returned the smile. "Just orange, any shade."

Massie crossed her arms over her chest. "So you sought me out to ask me about my favorite color?"

"Among other things."

"Oh? And what things would those be?"

Derrick thought of something quick, and was about to open his mouth to ask about her favorite animal when the bell rang overhead. "Well, I guess you'll never know."

She looks more amused than anything, and takes two steps down the aisle. "Are you able to find your way out of here? I know how unfamiliar you are to the concept of a library."

But she doesn't wait to hear his answer. With one final smile and a turn, she leaves his sight.

Two days ago he found her enigmatic. Ten minutes ago he found her to be endearing. But now, standing in the wake of her lightly scented perfume, Derrick Harrington didn't know what to make of Massie Block. They had shared one of the most insignificant of small conversations ever had, but to him it only made his interest in her grow. He wanted to get to know her more. He _needed_ to get to know her more.

It was something about the way she talked to him. She was the only girl in his life who spoke to him like a person, and not as a conquest. He would have never even cared, either, if it weren't for her. Never would he have known the difference. But now that he had, he didn't want to let it go.

Derrick left the library feeling slightly lightheaded.

**[ ]**

Dylan went to her third period debate class in the worst mood.

To start with, she didn't find Derrick. He had not been in the cafeteria, the weight room, or, after asking a freshman boy to go check, the locker room. She briefly toyed with the idea that he simply did not come to school today at all, but after a brief chat with Danny Robbins in the hallway she discovered that was not the case.

But besides the missing boy, she had to spend the next hour in her new, single-most dreaded class of her schedule.

Ever since Dylan had overheard the sophomore slut (she should really learn her actual name) recounting her exploits, she had taken great care to sit as far away as possible from the girl. However, after having been kept up by her exchange with Danny, all seats in the class had been filled- except for the one next to _her_.

It was just her shitty luck.

Dylan could feel Alicia's eyes on her back as she sat down, no doubt sending mental apologies her way for not saving her a seat, but she ignored her. She slid into the cool desk, sensing and mirroring the tension radiating off of the other girl.

"Morning, class," Their debate teacher, Ms. Elliot, greeted from the front of the classroom. After various responses, she continued. "Your last debate rounds went pretty well, and I was impressed with a lot of you. But we should remember that just because you're talking louder, it doesn't mean you're any less wrong," She sent a look in the direction of one of the senior boys, who had been practically yelling nonsense during his debate round last week. The boy grinned.

"Today, I have a few example resolutions that I want you all to research contentions for." Ms. Elliot held up the stack of papers she was holding. "I would pay attention to which ones are interesting to you and that you wouldn't mind debating, because there is a chance they would end up on the list for the next rounds. Sound good?"

Dylan reached into her book bag and pulled out a notebook to take notes on. If she just ignored the girl for the next hour, she wouldn't have to act on the small urge to smack the girl in the face that currently festered in the back of her mind.

"Um, do you have a pencil I could borrow?"

Dylan glowered. If anything, she didn't want to let the girl know just how much she resented her for ruining her life. Reaching into her bag again she retrieved an extra pencil and handed it over, but not without sending a harsh look her direction. She couldn't always be classy, after all.

"Thank-you," The girl said, timidly.

They worked in silence for a while. The rest of the room buzzed with the chatter of their classmates, but as far as Dylan was concerned this was a quiet work time. Some how the girl didn't quite get the message.

"Hey, Dylan?" She spoke quietly, unsure.

"Yes?" Dylan responded coldly, without looking up from her paper.

She heard her exhale shakily. "There's s-something I've been wanting to tell you."

"Oh? And what would that be? Did you sleep with my seventh grade boyfriend, too?" The comment didn't reflect the mature disposition she wanted to, but she found herself not all that apologetic for it. She looked up from her paper and into the face of the girl.

The most annoying thing about her was that she wasn't ugly. This entire situation would be so much easier if the girl was downright hideous. But with golden hair, a light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose, and hazel eyes, she was pretty. And it was annoying.

Her face paled at the accusation. "Um, no, no that's not what I wanted to say. You see, I didn't mean for this entire thing to go as out of hand as it did. My friend Marissa, she's very gossip-hungry, and she's been after me for a while for not having a boyfriend-"

"I really don't care about your relationship problems, funnily enough."

The girl paused, but continued. "Well, um, I may or may not have had up a hookup over the summer to get her off my back. But she didn't leave it there. She wanted to know who it was and when it was and it was just…" She sighed, and somehow, Dylan knew what was coming next. "I don't know why I said it was him, alright? I had to think of a name and he was one of the first. I must have been thinking of the announcements this morning, when they were talking about the soccer team."

"Wait," Dylan turned in her seat more. "What are you saying?" But she knew. She had a pretty good idea. She just needed to hear her say it.

"I'm saying, that, um," She looked down at her desk. "I didn't sleep with Derrick. I made it up."

It was the verbal equivalent of having a bucket of water poured over her head. The first thing Dylan felt was a huge sense of relief. And then guilt. Flashbacks to the night immediately following that day plagued her mind. He had tried to tell her nothing happened, but she didn't believe him. _She didn't believe him_. She didn't think it was possible to feel like a bigger jackass.

The girl was still going on. "… and I didn't even know you overheard at the time, but after I heard the two of you broke up and why I tried to explain to you what actually happened- or didn't, I guess- but your scary friend with the dark hair basically told me off. She called me a few names, too, but it wasn't like I didn't deserve them." She looked over at Dylan, who couldn't seem to take her eyes off her own paper, still processing what she just heard. "Anyway, I figured it was worth telling you. And I'm really, _really_ sorry. I know it was stupid to make up some dumb hookup, and it didn't help that I ruined your relationship in the process. But I would never have gone after him, anyway."

They didn't talk much after that. The girl seemed to have sense that Dylan had nothing to say to that, and went back to her work.

It only occurred to Dylan that she should say something back a few seconds before the bell had rung.

"Hey, um," Dylan caught onto the arm of the girl, who had just risen from her seat to follow the stream of students out the door. "Thank-you, for telling me that. What's your name?"

When the girl smiled, she looks truthfully relieved. "It's Sophia."

"Sophia," Dylan repeated. "Well, thanks for telling me the truth."

And ignoring the bewildered expression on Alicia's face, Dylan strode for the hallway.

She couldn't concentrate for anything during fourth period. The class itself was a joke (as if she didn't know the essentials involved in cooking chicken, thanks), but it still didn't stop her from nearly lighting the sleeve of her kitchen partner on fire. So when that bell finally rang, signaling lunch, she was the first to leave the classroom. The student parking lot was quite a ways away from the Home Ec rooms, but she made it.

He was making his way towards his BMW when she caught up to him.

"Hey!" She called, causing him to turn.

He opened his mouth to send a greeting back, but she cut him off.

"Look, I know I already apologized at the dance for my rash actions," she licked her dry lips. "And I know that I also said that I wanted to start over as friends. But, here's the thing. That's a lie." He looked confused, but she still wouldn't let him talk. She couldn't let him talk. "That's a lie, because I don't want to be friends. I want to be more than that. I want to be how we were again, but better. And I know, that I was insecure and needy for most of the time, but I can't help it. I just can't help being that way when it concerns you."

If he wanted to say anything, then would have been the perfect time. But his brows were knit, his mouth was slightly pursed, and it was apparent that this was now one of the few occasions where he had nothing to say.

Dylan stepped up to him, closer than she's been to him in weeks. She could smell his cologne again, and boy, had she missed it. Rising to her toes, she planted a swift kiss to his cheekbone. "I know it was me who screwed up before," She murmured near his ear. "And I know you probably couldn't care less about the whole thing. But I do, and I want you to know that I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."

Dylan Marvil was the second girl to ever leave Derrick Harrington speechless.


	9. nine

i still feel slightly evil about how i left things in mile five. and that i still haven't updated it (:

**THANKS LOADS:** ReadingCutie428, hannah, figureskatingismypassion, mo, angela, BreathingUnderwater (hah, don't worry, alicia's in a time out this chapter), and Jane Doe.

chapter title from regina spektor's _us_.

ps, the ending is lame, sorry.

* * *

><p>-<br>_chapter ix: "and it's contagious"  
>-<em>

If his life were a TV show, Derrick had always assumed it would be like Entourage. Living large, partying hard, and not giving a fuck about anything else. There was no other alternative he could ever picture. If his future did not involve hot girls and flowing booze, then it was obviously not his.

Which was why he was so stunned to wake up one morning to find that his life resembled a plot line on Dawson's Creek.

Normally, he tried his hardest to avoid dramatic situations. When it came to girls, he preferred the quick hookups; no lovey-dovey relationship crap. It wasn't really a hard promise to keep. The girls at Briarwood were all the same; easy, clingy, and sloppy drunks. Dylan was different. He first noticed her at Griffin Hastings' end of summer party (or whatever the excuse he came up with to justify the rager was). The only girl still standing up without the assistance of walls or chairs, she was belting out a terrible cover of Lady Gaga's latest overplayed track with a stumbling Alicia when Derrick concluded she wasn't like the other girls. She was worth so much more than one fleeting, drunken night.

And so he went against his instincts and perused a relationship. At least, as close to a relationship as he could manage. He was shit with the intimate parts—the talking, the feeling sharing. What he was good at (surprise, surprise) was the physical stuff. He really hadn't imagined it to take as much work as it did, their relationship, but for some reason he didn't mind trying.

He liked Dylan, he really did. He was upset when she ended it (mostly for the sake of his questioned integrity) but didn't mourn its absence. His world kept turning.

Massie Block was where the weirdness came in.

She was nothing like the girls he hooked up with. She was an academic, she was reserved, and didn't swoon at the sight of him. The first time they talked she called him on his shit and left him sitting at the table by himself. He had been one part annoyed and two parts impressed by that stunt.

If anyone had told him he would become as fascinated with his tutor as he did, he would've laughed in their face and told them to lay off the drugs. But he did. His curiosity about the girl increased ten-fold. He couldn't remember the last time someone talked to him like that.

And Massie wasn't ugly. Derrick could still appreciate beauty even if the beholder wasn't constantly thrusting it in his face. And he could appreciate it far more when it took him by surprise.

So here he was, stuck.

Well, actually Derrick was sitting at a table in the food court at the Westchester town centre. Spread out over the expanse of the wide oak surface was open notebooks, textbooks, and a plethora of pencils and pens. And perched on the heavy chair directly across from him was one of the objects of his current turmoil.

They had spent the bulk of their weekend tutoring session on math. Currently, Massie was going off about inverse logarithms, a spiel that Derrick honestly hadn't really been paying much attention to.

"… as I'm sure you know already. But it's really not that difficult if you just remember the steps- I've written them all down for you here, see?- and since there are calculators allowed on the test it's not like you have to do much calculating…"

He zoned out again, releasing a sigh and leaning back in his seat. It wasn't her fault. Math, among most every other academic subject, was not his thing.

Massie was not oblivious to his boredom. She smiled lightly. "Is something the matter?"

Derrick sighed for a second time. "Can't we stop? We've been here for," A quick glace to his watch. "Three hours now."

"Derrick, your mid terms are next week."

"Quarter finals don't even count for that much of your grade. In fact, I think Mr. Black said that if it lowered our grades we can option to drop it all together."

"It could still help. And the last time I looked, you were still hardly pushing a C." Massie reminded him.

Picking absent mindedly at the table, Derrick frowned. He didn't like to be constantly reminded that his grades were poor. It was Massie's job to know and to help, but he felt intellectually inferior in comparison to her. "Well, I call a break time."

"Alright," Massie leaned forward and rested her arms on the table. "What should we do?"

He craned his neck around to take in the vast room. He didn't normally spend his free time at the town centre. There wasn't that much to do here, in his opinion. This particular Saturday it was moderately crowded. About half of the tables were filled with middle-aged women with their heads stuck in a novel or the like. "Um," He turned back to her. "People watch?"

"People watch?" She repeated. "I didn't know you peopled watched."

"I don't, but why not?"

"You sure it isn't going to get a little dry for you? People watching does involve a silence that isn't filled with praise to stroke your ego."

Derrick smirked at the light jab. "My ego's been stroked plenty in the past week. Besides, we've got a game tonight, and I think I can hold off until then."

Massie broke away from his gaze and fixated hers into the crowd. "Oh look, it's your future wife."

Turning to where she had indicated, Derrick scoffed to find his eyes settling on an old lady wearing a hideous sweater adorned with kittens and strings of yarn. "Oh, ha ha, you're hilarious. I'd say hello to your future husband, except he isn't allowed to leave his house."

Laughing shortly and sweetly, Massie turned back to him. "If there's anyone who shouldn't be allowed to leave their house, it's you."

"Why?" Derrick leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "I'm just too sexy for the public to handle?"

If it were any other girl, they would be furiously blushing or coyly giggling. But if it were any other girl, he wouldn't have hung on to every word of her response with the upmost attention.

She didn't miss a beat, firing back with, "Right, that's why. It has absolutely nothing to do with your deluded pig-headedness."

He inwardly cringed at the playful insult, but disguised it with an even wider grin than before. "Whatever you say, Block."

Behind her head, Derrick noticed a familiar figure standing in line at the teriyaki counter. Shit, this really was not what he needed right now. "Um," He began to close up some of the notebooks. "We should get out of here. You want to take this study session to my car or something?"

Massie frowned, her thin nose crinkling ever so slightly. "Your car? Derrick, what-"

"Derrick?"

_Shit_.

"Hey man," Derrick said as casually as possible.

Josh approached the table, taking in the scene of Derrick and Massie with a confused expression. "Hey. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know, just um…" Derrick trailed off. He could feel Massie's eyes trained on him, waiting for an answer. He released the smallest of sighs. "Josh, this is Massie. She's my tutor."

If Josh was surprised by that bit of information, he didn't let it show. He cordially sent a smile and a wave in her direction. "Hey."

"Hi."

Josh turned back to Derrick. "So, the pre-game practice starts in a half an hour. You're going to be there, right?"

"Of course," Derrick fiddled with the leather strap of his watch. He tried to ignore the awkward tension that surrounded the trio. "I don't think I should be letting Barrett get his hopes up. I mean, it would be cruel to let him think he actually had a chance of getting my spot."

Josh scoffed, and turned to Massie. "I don't know how you've been putting up with him." Massie gave a small laugh, and Derrick could've hugged Josh for his playful manner. The other boy turned back to Derrick. "But seriously, don't be late. In fact, why don't we just go together?"

"What, right now?" Josh nodded slowly, and Derrick looked at Massie. She had her dark eyes trained on the table, expression unreadable. "Um, you don't mind, do you Block?"

"Hmm?" Massie looked up. "Oh, no, no I don't mind."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, yeah go," Flashing him a quick smile, Massie started to close her textbooks. "It's fine."

"Okay," Derrick rose to his feet, scooping up his own belongings. "I guess I'll see you Monday."

He had only taken ten steps away from the table when, ignoring Josh's unreadable looks that were being sent in this direction, he turned back. "Hold up," He said to Josh, returning to Massie's side. "Do you want to come?"

She looked up at him, surprised. "Come?"

"Yeah, to the game."

"I don't," She paused. "I don't know."

"Oh, come on," Derrick urged, feeling a smile growing. "I want you there."

It could've just been his (wishful?) imagination, but those words seemed to have an effect on her. She didn't look at him, but he could swear that they did. "I have a lot of stuff to do tonight. Um, essays, and I think some AP stats homework-"

"Do it there."

"At the stadium? Derrick, I really don't see how-"

"Okay, then don't," He licked his lips. "Just, please try to come, okay?"

Smiling softly, Massie finally nods. "Alright, but I make no promises."

"That's enough for me." Flashing a smile, he returns to Josh's side and walks with him to the exit. "What?" He said, noticing his friend's look.

"Nothing," Josh looked away, shrugging.

**[ ]**

It felt good to be back in the net.

It felt good to catch the ball between his open hands and feel its small weight. To see the defeated expressions on the other team's faces. To hear the cheers from the stands buzzing in his ears.

Derrick loved it—he loved the game.

There wasn't much in his life that he could wholeheartedly say he enjoyed with every fiber of his being, that he _lived_ to do. He realized he was fortunate enough to have it, because not everyone else was as lucky.

He would do anything if it meant he could play. And under that category was making sure Liam Barrett got as little game time as possible.

Of course, he didn't dive into this without a plan. It was easy enough, with only two major parts. The first part required Derrick to be at the top of his game at all times—not that it's a change from norm, but the already limited room for error shrunk greatly at the prospect of being replaced by the second string goalie. If he ever let a ball into the net… He didn't even want to think about it.

The second and final part was his least favorite, as it required some serious ass kissing. As much as he loathed the idea, he couldn't have a sure hold on his position if Coach Mackely was always out to get him. If he had to stay after practice and pick up cones or whatever, then so be it. But the sucking up didn't end with Coach. He could admit that given his recent focus on his academic work, he had been slacking on his team captain duties. A team that barely knows its captain will not hesitate to find a replacement. Though team bonding was definitely something he could handle.

A gust of wind hit him from the left, but Derrick kept his dark eyes trained on the ball that was currently at midfield. Cam had possession, so there was no immediate danger of its return to their half. His friend crossed to ball to the other side of the pitch with a swift kick, passing it over to Matt Harper, the senior forward. Harper passed it nearly the second it came to him, and the ball found its way in front of Danny, who-

_Shit_. The ball was stolen out from under his feet by the opposing defender. He remembered giving Danny numerous lectures and pointers on aggression and keeping in front of the ball, but he would have to deal with that later.

Right now, it was his turn.

It took the ball a little under ten seconds to make it to the outskirts of the goal box (something else he'd have to lecture for). The kicker was a tall boy, with bleach blonde hair and a face so screwed with concentration Derrick thought he might pass out from the force of it. Instead, his leg wound back.

For most keepers, this was when they cracked. When the realization that they were only thing standing on the thin line of victory and defeat. When the ball, looking as if it were coming at them in slow motion, could just as well been on fire. This was when they choked.

Derrick smirked, pushing off from the ground using the balls of his feet. If the boy had paid attention at all during the first half, he would have known that off all the places to try to score on Derrick Harrington, the upper left corner of the goal was the least logical. He knew before his hands closed around the ball that it was over.

There wasn't much in his life that he could wholeheartedly say he enjoyed with every fiber of his being, but _god_ he loved this game.

**[ ]**

"Harrington." Derrick looked up from his locker to meet the beady gaze of Coach Mackley as he passed by the row of lockers. "Nice game today."

"Thanks Coach," Trying to put on the best front he could, Derrick nodded his head in gratitude.

Cam snuck up on his other side, hair still damp from his shower. "So that's what, your twelfth career shut out?"

"Fifteenth, actually."

"Jesus, do you even need us man?" Josh pulled a grey t-shirt over his head. "I think next game we should go down to Slice of Heaven or something and leave you here alone. It's not like we're needed or anything."

Derrick laughed shortly. "You might as well. I'm sure I could make a few goals just by throwing it in." He ducked his head just in time as a towel came flying at his head. "Now, you see, that's a perfect example of why you're all incompetent."

Kemp snorted. "Thanks for the captain-ly love." Derrick was about to retort, but a new wave of Tomahawks entered the locker room. He felt his grin fading slowly as he assessed the new arrivals.

"Good game, guys," Liam said cheerfully. He nodded in Derrick's direction. "Harrington."

"Thanks." Derrick said without looking at him.

"It sucks you couldn't come in with us," Matt Harper said. Derrick toyed briefly with the idea of throwing his cleats (that he was currently unlacing) into one of the toilets.

Liam shrugged. "A little, yeah, but Derrick doesn't need any help out there." _You're damn right I don't_. "Besides," He continued. "Coach promised me some playing time next game."

Pausing only momentarily in the process of tugging his black t-shirt over his head, Derrick tried not to show that it bothered him. Why should Liam get promised playing time? What the hell has he done at all in the past week to earn that right? Derrick himself just added another shutout to his record, but apparently Coach wasn't watching the same game.

Cam, of course, seemed to pick up o n his discomfort. "You okay?" He asked in low tones, leaning close so they could talk without being overheard by the rest of the team.

"Fucking fantastic," Derrick closed his locker with a little more force than what was initially intended. "It's not like my position on the team is in jeopardy or anything, right?"

"It's really not." Cam ignored Derrick's skeptical look. "No, Coach isn't stupid enough to bench you and put that kid in permanently. But you can't expect him to keep him on the sidelines forever. He deserves a chance to play too, and you know that." Derrick didn't say anything. "Look, you have nothing to worry about. So knock it off."

Unfortunately, that wasn't enough. Not for one person he knew, and not for himself.

**[ ]**

There was no Mr. Harrington outside waiting for him when he emerged from the locker room.

Weirdly enough, Derrick was disappointed at that discovery. It was rare that he had a game where he felt completely sure that there was nothing for his father to pick at. For him to not have even seen it, well, it was a little more than a letdown.

Then again, most things involving his father were letdowns.

Readjusting his duffle bag on his shoulder, he began his lonely walk to the front gates of the stadium. A little bit of the crowd still lingered, not yet ready to go home. And it was weird, but being surrounded by all these people—his peers, his teammates and their families, his friends—had a sobering effect on him. He fished in the pockets of his warm ups pants for his car keys. He needed to get home.

He heard hurried footsteps behind him, growing louder with their owner's approach. "Derrick!"

Turning wasn't really necessary, he knew who it was. Nevertheless he pivoted on the balls of his feet and came face to face with Dylan.

"Hey," She greeted with a slight smile. She looked good in her cheerleading uniform, but that was no different than any other day.

Derrick gave a nod of his head, remembering what went down the last time they talked. "Hi."

"So," Dylan had her hands clasped together, playing with her fingers—a nervous habit of hers. "Have you, um, have you thought about…" An exhale. "Have you thought about what I said on Monday?"

"Uh, a little, yeah." A little was kind of an understatement. How could he not have thought about it? How could anyone not spend any time at all going over what went down on Monday afternoon?

She looked expectant, but he said nothing more. "Oh," The disappointment was obvious on her features, no matter how hard he could see her trying to hide it. "I take it you haven't…"

"No, I haven't."

"Right."

She hadn't been meeting his gaze for the entirety of their awkward meeting, but she suddenly looked up. "I told you, I'm not going anywhere. You'll come around eventually." With those parting words, she stalked past him and left.

He should've been immensely annoyed, but he wasn't. She was really underestimated, Dylan Marvil.

Derrick was about to turn and continue for the stadium exit when his eyes fell upon a surprising sight. Massie had made it after all, and she stood underneath flood lights leaning against the wall of the concession stand. But she was not alone. The current bane of his existence was chatting her up, wearing a stupid smile and accepting body language.

Gritting his teeth in utter annoyance, he changed course and stalked over. Neither of the two looked up at his arrival.

"Hey Massie, glad you could make it," Derrick said, coming to a halt at her side. He acknowledged her companion with as much courtesy as he could manage. "Barrett. Thought you'd taken off by now."

Liam shook his head. "Nope. My dad's pulling our car around though." His light eyes returned to Massie's face. "I guess I'll talk to you later in the week then."

"Oh yeah, definitely," Massie was chipper and genuine and Derrick held in an irritated exhale. "Bye!"

Once the offending boy was out of sight, Derrick turned. "What are you talking to Barrett for?"

"That's not really any of your business," Massie said. Her slight smile told Derrick she wasn't annoyed by the prying (and slightly demanding) question, but he immediately felt guilty for asking anyways. "Why do you want to know?"

Derrick shrugged, attempting to look nonchalant. "He's a teammate, just curious."

"Well anyway, I tore myself away from the books tonight to see your game. You did great!" She smiled. "I mean, I don't know hardly anything about soccer, but I can see why you love it so much."

"Thanks."

"So you didn't give up a single goal?

"Mhm."

" Do they have a name for that? I mean, in the sports world."

"A shutout."

"And are these shutouts a common thing?"

He grinned. "For me."

"Modesty looks good on you, Harrington."

Laughing, Derrick shrugged. "Everything looks good on me. So, do you need a ride? Where's Claire?"

"Oh," Massie checked her phone, which was clutched in her hand. "Claire didn't make it. Something about a debate plan of attack, which I didn't ask about, because debate sucks." He chuckled at this. "I was going to call my mom, actually. Why? Are you offering?"

"I guess I am." He motioned with his head. "Come on." She fell into step beside him as they headed towards the gate.

"Well, see, I don't know if I'll be able to fit in your car with that big head of yours."

"I could always just strap you to the roof."

"Strapped to the roof of Derrick Harrington's car. You know, I still think there are girls in my English class who would kill to be in my position…"


	10. ten

I've been trying to get back into the swing of writing.  
>I have a few things planned, but I figured I should start off with something old.<br>Although I hardly edited this. And by hardly, I mean I didn't. Bear with me here, this was a struggle.

**THANKS FOR HANGING IN THERE: **BreathingUnderwater, Readingcutie428, Mo, guest, Hannah, Angela, another guest, figureskatingismypassion, and glitter and gloss.

Have a happy holidays, everyone!

* * *

><p>-<br>_chapter x: "you're a pendulum"_  
>-<p>

Whatever traces of summer remained at the end of September had fully vanished by the time November rolled around. Autumn was in full swing, bringing with it the colder temperatures and a thick coating of leaves upon the ground. Cut-offs and short sleeves were replaced with cords and hoodies. The days grew darker. And Alicia grew more restless.

It had a lot to do with how boring her life has been as of late. It had been months since her last hookup, school was a waste of time, and there was relatively no drama in her life.

Dylan's life, on the other hand…

It wasn't exactly a Spanish telenovela, but the mystery surrounding her best friend's love interest's mysterious lady friend was enough to keep her preoccupied through the upcoming holiday weekend.

However, she was alone in her quest for answers. When initially approached by the subject, the redhead simply brushed it off. But Alicia was determined to get her on the board the witch hunt.

She tried to sway her friend again, while the pair was unwinding at Dylan's house.

"I'm telling you," Dylan turned the page of the magazine she was looking at, growing slightly irritated at Alicia's claims. "Drop it. It's nothing. Derrick Harrington would never go out with some random, plain nobody."

"You didn't see what I saw." Alicia was crouched at the bookshelf. _If she could just find…_ "There was something there!"

"What, delusions?"

Scowling, Alicia huffed. "No—_ah_," Having found what she was looking for Alicia returned to the bed, carrying the 2011 Westchester High yearbook aloft. "I'm telling you, Derrick had his game face on. He's into her."

Her ginger-haired counterpart was skeptical, emitting a scoff. "Um, Leesh, why would he be into her when he's got me?"

"What do you think I've been trying to find out for these past weeks?" Alicia pawed through the pages, skipping past the student life and sports sections without pause. "I'm the one trying to salvage what little of a relationship you have with him. If he was really into you like you think he is then why aren't you two back together yet? I'm trying to do you a favor. _God_, I'm not even in a relationship and yet I'm still doing all the work…" She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. "Now, do you think he'd go for a sophomore or stick with juniors?"

Dylan took a moment of silence, one that was filled only by the sharp sound of turning pages, before speaking. "He doesn't _date_ underclassmen, I've told you."

"I'll skip the sophomore section, then," Alicia said. "Start with our grade."

Dylan watched as her friend poured over the faces of their peers, the certainty she held just minutes before slowly dwindling. Her friend, as blunt and nonchalant as she may be, held a good point. Derrick has had nearly a month to think about what she said to him in the parking lot and she's still waiting for a response. What is he waiting for if not to crawl into bed with some other girl? Their breakup had been unreasonable and over-dramatic—two qualities that had previously prevented him from dating anyone earlier. It was (though she hated to admit it) possible that he was considering not getting back together with her at all.

Setting her magazine aside, Dylan scooted closer to Alicia. "What did you say she looked like again?"

**[ ]**

"Derrick, give it back."

Derrick would have been completely convinced of Massie's annoyance if not for her complete lack of composure. The girl had to catch her lip between her teeth (something he tried not to let his gaze linger on for too long) to prevent from breaking out into fits of giggles. "I'm sorry?" He stretched his arm further back, away from her reach. "You want what?"

"My calculator," Massie tried again, cheeks flushed. Her resilience wavered slightly, and for an instance Derrick got a glimpse of her full smile. "I want it back."

"I say we've had enough of math for today, wouldn't you?"

After a failed attempt at pursing her lips, Massie lunged further across the table. "Seriously, _give it_. People are starting to stare."

He was calling quite a bit of attention to their table, something he normally would try to avoid. But on this late November afternoon, he really didn't care. He liked to drive her crazy—he'd take the risk.

"They're starting because you're lying across the table like a madwoman." He moved the calculator just outside of her grasp. "I mean, control yourself. It must be hard resisting my allure all day, but _please_, we're in public."

Massie sat back in her chair, still slightly smiling. Straightening out her sweater, she cleared her throat before she spoke. "Fine, but I need it back before the end of the day. I have a stats first thing tomorrow."

The game was over. He tried to hide his disappointment, placing the instrument back on the desk. "Oh." Massie had returned to her books, looking just how he found her earlier. "I don't mean to bother you. I could leave if you need to study."

"No, not a bother. Stay if you want."

Derrick repressed a smile.

**[ ]**

"I still haven't met this Massie," Cam said to him in the hallway later in the day. "Josh has met her, but I haven't met her. In what world is that fair?"

"It wasn't as if we sat down together for brunch," Derrick said, sidestepping a group of freshmen girls surrounding the announcement board. "He ran in to us."

"But still, Josh before me? I'm offended."

"If I had it my way, no one would meet her."

"See, that's what I don't understand," Cam untwisted the cap from the bottle of Gatorade he was holding and took a sip. "You're so convinced that if we meet her bad things are going to happened. Do you think we'll judge her or something? I mean, dude, we don't care."

"That's not why," Derrick said, now on the defensive. "She's the first girl I've talked since the fifth grade where I haven't felt pressured to hook up with her. It'll change with you guys—you'll all turn it into something it's not."

"Again, offended." His friend took another sip. "But what is it then if not that? Like you said, you're rarely around a girl for their friendship."

_But maybe this time is different_, Derrick thought to say. _She's different_. _When I'm with her I'm different_. There was too much to say on the matter, none for which he could find the proper words to voice. It wasn't that he didn't trust Cam, because he did. He just didn't understand the situation himself.

"Listen," Cam continued without waiting for him to respond. "I don't have to meet her if you don't want me to. It's whatever. But you'd better be back to your usual fun self for Kemp's Black Friday party this weekend. It should be good."

"Party," Derrick repeated. "Right."

**[ ]**

As per their annual tradition, Claire and Massie spent their Thanksgiving morning at the movie theater. Since they were eight, they had taken to see the worst movie out at that time before spending the evening with their respected families. As Claire puts it, "it makes them look a little better."

Massie frowned at the blown up poster. "Do you think she really ends up with Justin Timberlake's character?"

"I'm betting she'll be after him at first. But it'll be that guy," Claire pointed to the image of a guy standing just behind the main character, "who will get her in the end. It's the typical romantic comedy formula, come on Massie."

"Well excuse me for hoping for something different," Massie followed Claire into the lobby of the theater. "I think I'm much too trusting for the movies."

"I think you're much too trusting for life in general," Claire said, getting in line for the snack bar. "If I were you, I would have kicked Derrick Harrington to the curb after your first meeting. But that's Mother Massie for you."

Massie rolled her eyes. "He really isn't a bad guy once you get to know him."

"What, like you have?" The blonde clicked her tongue. "I'm surprised he hasn't hit on you yet."

"Why would he?" Massie examined her nails. "When he's got girls like Dylan Marvil around?"

Claire's blue eyes widened. "Is that jealousy I detect? Are you into your student Miss Block?"

Massie flushed. "I am not into him, thank you very much. We're just friends."

"You're trying to tell me that you sit across a table from that three times a week and haven't had any ideas? Please."

"I never said the idea of dating him never crossed my mind," Massie admitted. "But it's _Derrick Harrington_. He doesn't date girls, let alone girls like me."

"And what's wrong with girls like you?" Claire quickly directed her attention to the employee behind the counter. "One small coke and a pack of red vines, please."

"Nothing," Massie said quietly. "It's just not what he's into, that's all."

"You're nuts." Claire gathered up her food. "But maybe if you pay close enough attention to this movie, you'll get some pointers on how to win him over."

Massie smiled in adoration, not bothering to argue her friend.

**[ ]**

**KEMP HURLEY: 'blackout friday' has been moved to harper's house.  
><strong>**CAM FISHER: i thought your mother was out of town for the weekend?  
><strong>**DANNY ROBBINS: is it still byob?  
><strong>**KEMP HURLEY: mother dearest just remembered that she actually hates my grandparents, so she cashed in the plane tickets for a new purse. and unless you plan on chugging tap water, you better bring your own beer.  
><strong>**DANNY ROBBINS: but matt's loaded. you'd think he'd be a better host…  
><strong>**JOSH HOTZ: he's already letting you puke in his dresser, i think that's enough as it is.  
><strong>**DANNY ROBBINS: oh my god, that was one time!  
><strong>**DERRICK HARRINGTON: can you not include me in these group messages anymore? you're all stupid.**

**[ ]**

The party was loud, out of control, and full of debauchery—basically just any other Friday night.

Derrick lost Cam a little more than twenty minutes ago. He hadn't seen Kemp or Josh around for a while, either. Danny had his head in the toilet the last time he saw him, and Plovert was probably passed out behind a plant somewhere.

It was basically just any other Friday night.

Derrick wasn't completely sober, either. An intense but yet still extremely pleasant buzz coated his senses, heightening his mood. Around him people danced, occasionally shoving him one way and the other as he tried to navigate his way through. At one point he sloshed his nearly-empty cup of vodka on the shoes of a basketball player (who thankfully did not notice). Somewhere in his mind he registered that he should not try driving tonight.

From inside his pocket, his phone buzzed twice. He pulled it out to check the message to find that he was oddly disappointed to see who sent it. He hadn't heard from Massie in a few days, not even a quick 'Happy Thanksgiving don't forget about that test in history next Wednesday' text he was sure he would receive. Perhaps he should text her…

He was stuck on entering his pass code when a pair of hands covered his.

"Hi," their owner slurred. She smelled of pumpkin spice and beer.

"Dylan," he greeted, peering at her smiling face.

"Listen," She closed her eyes briefly before continuing, looking like she was struggling to find the words. "I-I told you I wanted back you _weeks_ ago, and you still haven't responded. And it's like, what's taking you so long? This is me we're talking about. I'm Dylan. And you're Derrick. And Alicia is saying some nonsense about some brunette girl and you at a soccer game, and I was saying how that's not right, because some girl couldn't compete with me, and-"

"Wait, what girl?" Derrick hadn't been listening to her drunken ramble, his attention stolen by a small stain on the right shoulder of her top.

"Right? I _told_ her it was nothing. Still, we have a problem?"

"We do?"

Dylan took steps forward, until Derrick was sandwiched between her and the wall. "Yes. Because you still haven't answered my question."

"What was the question?"

"I told you I wanted you back."

Derrick frowned. That wasn't a question. But Dylan shushed him when he opened his mouth to respond.

"Look, it's okay. I know you wanted to teach me a lesson or whatever. Act all hurt and play the victim and stuff. But it's okay now, we can be together." She pressed up against him fully now. "Just you and me Derrick, like it was."

He doesn't really have time to react. Before he knows it, she's covered his mouth with her own. The kiss is sloppy and clumsy, and somewhere he knows he probably shouldn't be in this situation, but he responds. Her fingers slide under the hem of his shirt, her fingers cold against the hot skin of his abdomen. His are in her hair, parts of which are damp with what he hoped was just beer or vodka or whatever else there had been to drink (just please not vomit).

"Get a room!" Someone calls, and bursts of laughter follow.

A room. Right. He lets her pull him down the hallway to a spare bedroom. It's decorated with that sailing theme Rebecca was obsessed with over the summer, but he barely has time to take it in before she's on him again, getting them both horizontal with little to no effort.

He really hopes that's not vomit in her hair.


	11. eleven

hi. hello.

it's been a while. but since i've graduated high school and have no summer assignments really i figured it's a good time to start writing again (although if we're being honest here i would not have started the summer assignments until september anyway). i have been writing a bit on my tumblr (was that a shamless plug why no don't be silly thelinkisonmyprofile), but nothing really substantial for a while now. i miss it.

i had weird urges to write for this, of all things. so i tried, and nothing great or spectacular was coming out. because of this, this addition is short and filler-y, as i did not trust myself to write anything important and if i looked at this any longer i'd throw my laptop across the room. so.

**THANKS (AND SORRY) TO**: ashleyyy, Jane Doe, Guest, ailes du neige, angela (! miss you), and giantlollipops

chapter title from wolfmother's 'vagabond'

mmkay here you go.

* * *

><p>-<br>_chapter xi: "i can see you girl, can you see me"_  
>-<p>

Scoffing to herself, Alicia crumpled the note into her fist as she walked the hall with purpose. _This is ridiculous_.

Overdue library book? Please. Her disbelief at receiving the orange slip second period was quickly overshadowed by seer annoyance for the staff of this subpar public high school. They weren't even capable of keeping an accurate account of their own library books. She couldn't even remember setting foot in the library since freshman year.

She pulled open the oak library doors with purpose, stalking through the turnstile and up to the counter. The spectacled librarian behind the desk didn't so much as look up from her pile of book cards at her arrival.

"Um, excuse me?"

The librarian raised her head slowly, appearing unfazed by the girl's presence. "The magazines are located to the _right_ of the fiction section."

"Uh, yeah, not what I'm here for," She slapped the note down. "Can you explain this?"

The librarian briefly glanced at it. "You have an overdue library book. It says that across the top in boldface."

"Really," She smeared as much sarcasm as she could on that single word. The nerve of this woman. "My issue lies with the fact that I have not checked a book out from here since that book about the recluse we had to read freshman year. Now get on your computer and get rid of this thing for me."

The librarian set aside the stack of book cards she was holding, never breaking her gaze away from Alicia's until she had slid the keyboard into position.

Rolling her eyes, Alicia turned away from the women and looked out over the expanse of the library. She didn't understand why it was as full as it was. Why waste your time in a room where no one could appreciate how good you look from behind a stack of books? Or in a place that smelled like the elderly? It was absolutely—

She straightened. She recognized the back of that head over there, the one standing by the tutoring center.

Wordlessly she left the counter, and not soon after she found herself mere steps away from the girl. _Dylan won't be happy about this_.

She opened her mouth to say something, but the girl turned around of her own accord.

"Oh," She said pleasantly at the sight of her. _The nerve_. "Hi. How can I help you?"

Plastering on her sweetest, most venom-filled smile she could muster, Alicia matched her tone. "Yes, you can. Stay away from Derrick Harrington."

The smile fell off the second girl's face. She appeared stunned. "W-what?"

"You're Massie Block, are you not?" Alicia stepped closer. "His tutor? I mean, that is all you are, right? I've seen you cozying up to him, but that's probably just my mistake. Though who knows what you get up to between the shelves."

Her face is flushed. "I'm sorry, I don't know-"

"I thought you were smart," Alicia scoffs. "Whatever. Bottom line, _stay away_. Derrick has Dylan. Derrick _wants_ Dylan, okay? You don't have a chance with him. This isn't some romantic teacher/student relationship. You are not Aria, and he is not Ezra. Got it?"

Massie's expression changes, and suddenly she is not the image of a frightened girl that Alicia had been pleased to see. "Excuse me, I don't know who you think you are or how you got into a library, but my lessons are absolutely none of your business. Not only are your assumptions ridiculous and your analogy incorrect, but you are complete out of line."

"I'm the one out of line?" Alicia repeated. "You're the one trying to steal another girl's boyfriend."

"I am not interested in Derrick Harrington," Massie said plainly. "I'm sorry you and your friend are too insecure to see otherwise."

Alicia's jaw tightened. "I would watch yourself if I were you, _Mass_. I can destroy you by third period if I'd like."

"Insecure and an inflated sense of superiority? I hope you're seeing a therapist."

If they were not in school, if they were not in the library for all to see, there was no question that Alicia would have slapped this girl across the face. Hard. As it was, they were in the very public room of learning, so Alicia took a second to compose herself. "You can say whatever you want, but nothing changes the fact that you are a _nobody_. No one knows who you are. No one cares about you. I'm sure the attention you're getting from Derrick is nice, like a little ray of sunshine in your depressing world. But you do not belong in our world."

Straightening her tweed blazer, she began to turn. "Stay in the library where you belong, and we won't have a problem."

**[ ]**

He would give anything to be anyone else right now, and for Derrick those moments are rare.

He awoke the morning after the party with a pounding migraine and an overwhelming sense of suffocation, the causes of both easily identifiable. Migrane? Hangover. Suffocation? Dylan's arms wrapped tightly around his bare torso.

He tried to make a sleuth exit without waking her, but he underestimated just how light of a sleeper she was. One creak of the mattress and she was awake, tightening her grip and peppering kisses over his shoulder. There was really no way of talking himself out of this one.

Obviously, it wasn't what he wanted. Well, not quite, anyway. He'd be lying if he said he didn't want _it_. It was the other part he didn't want. The morning after, lovey-dovey affectionate part.

Since then, he's gone more out of his way than usual to avoid the redhead. In person, that is. There was no way to completely steer clear with technology these days. Texts, calls, voicemails, tweets, Facebook messages, Snapchats of "cute" facial expressions, Vines, you name it. He had remove the battery from his phone so he could get some sleep.

It's been over a week since their tryst. One week of pure hell. There was no way on this earth that Derrick could continue with this. He had to end it with her. Again.

_But she'll probably cry_, a voice reminded him.

Please, no she wouldn't.

_The tears would be streaming down her face._

Oh, come on. She's more mature than that.

_Mascara all over her face._

Let's be realistic here.

_She'd for sure hit you._

…

Right. There has to be another way.

Avoidance, as proven, wasn't it, for it seemed the more Derrick ignored her the more effort she put into becoming noticed. It was insane. She'd be waiting outside his chemistry class, so he would dip out through Howland's office. She would wait by his car, and he would get a ride home with Cam and pick up his car later.

And when he absolutely could not avoid her any longer, when he'd strike up the nerve to cut her loose, she'd pull him by his collar into the nearest janitor's closet/backseat/bedroom/bathroom/you name it.

He can admit that part isn't so awful.

The weirdest thing was that she was not acting like the same girl he dated for a month. The cool, sane girl he had actually liked had been replaced with a clingy, suffocating psycho via body snatchers or a serious hit to the head.

The Dylan Situation has had an effect on his tutoring as well. Having not told Massie about what happened, he has come up with multiple excuses to hold their sessions in unusual places—such as the veryveryvery back of the library behind the reference books and the kid's Playplace at McDonalds. She was suspicious, he could tell, but too polite to ask what was really going on. She always waited for him to tell her. Just one more thing Derrick liked about her.

Caught between a cheerleader and a tutor. Perfect.

"Should I make fun of you now or wait until after the game?" Cam said from the opposite bench, that ever annoying smirk on his face.

"Spare me, please. I think this is torture enough," Derrick held his phone, which was currently light up like a Christmas tree with missed calls, aloft.

Sighing, his best friend began to tie his cleats. "You really need to cut her off. The longer you drag this out the worse it will be."

"You think I don't know that? It's not like I'm not trying or anything. Every time I go to do it she throws herself at me. What am I supposed to do? Say no?"

Cam paused, raising his head to look at him. "Please don't tell me you're stringing her along for sex."

Derrick scoffed. "I'm offended you would even suggest it, Cameron."

"You may be offended, but with you it's possible."

Possible, yes, but that couldn't be why he was having a hard time dumping her. He was a better person than that, right?

**[ ]**

"You're quiet today," Derrick observed of his tutor.

Massie smiled weakly. "Am I? I'm sorry, didn't notice."

"What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," she said shortly.

Derrick looked at her, brow raised.

"Really, it's nothing,"

"Okay, if you insist," Derrick went back to the problem she had assigned him moments before.

Massie cleared her throat. "Is your friend Alicia always so aggressive?"

Derrick looked up. "This is about Alicia? What did she do to you?"

"Nothing, nothing," Massie reassured him. "I just overheard her being particularly nasty to some girl in here this morning. Just wondering if that's her usual character, is all."

"Alicia was in the library?" Derrick snorted. "Interesting. Yeah, she has a strong personality. We generally don't get along that great though. But she means well, I think."

She seemed satisfied with that answer, and did not say anything further. He found it mildly interesting that she showed a curiosity in Alicia all of a sudden for she never before seemed concerned or bothered with who he hung out with. And Alicia should spark concern in everyone she comes across.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood tall. Derrick discreetly craned his neck around. Shit. Surely Dylan hadn't found him now, right in the middle of his time with Massie...

"Why do you keep checking over your shoulder?"

Derrick turned back around to see Massie watching him with a slightly amused expression. "What? I'm not checking over my shoulder."

"It's the third time in the past fifteen minutes."

"No, not it's not. You're imagining things."

"Right," She pointed to the chemistry review paper work. "Well, when you're finished not acting paranoid, we should really get back to working on this. Your semester final is in a couple weeks."

"The end of the semester, yeah." Derrick had forgotten that the first half of junior year was already over. The idea boosted his mood, but only slightly. "Have any big plans over break?"

"Not particularly," said Massie. "Just the usual tree decorating, cookie making, holiday goodness."

"Was that sarcasm I detected?"

"You'll never know. What are your plans?"

"An annual ski trip. At least, newly annual," Derrick sighed. "My father decided to start one after the divorce last summer, so I guess this is the second annual."

Massie nodded. "Well, at least it's an effort to spend time together?"

_A half-assed one_, Derrick thought to say. Instead, "So, Chemistry. Walk me through this bullshit."


End file.
